A to Z: Harry Potter People
by xLove-Hate-Relationshipx
Summary: A series of one shots about people in the Harry Potter world. Each chapter is told in the point of view of a character beginning with a letter of the alphabet.
1. Disclaimer

Disclaimer: All credit for coming up with the magical wizarding world, including Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry and all of the characters in her seven amazing books, belongs to JK Rowling. I own nothing except for the plots of these one-shots.


	2. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Yes, I know that it's been done before. And that it can get boring. And I know this is not the way it happened in the book, but that's what fan fiction is for, right? But I happen to love writing one-shots more than writing a whole novel of a story, so here you are.

And BTW, sorry about last chapter, but it's so much easier to do it that way rather than to type it at the beginning of each chapter!!

Word Count: 978

Letter: A

Character: Albus Dumbledore

Other Characters Considered For The Part: Besides Professor Dumbledore, I considered Alastor Moody, the wonderful auror who sacrificed himself for Harry, and Argus Filch, the Hogwarts "janitor."

Why I Picked Albus: Besides being the head of every kid's dream school, Dumbledore was a knowledgeable and consoling man who was not only a good secret keeper, but a good secret discoverer.

Summary: Professor Dumbledore destroys the horocrux.

I watched him storm out the door and heard him thump down the steps. _Darn Slytherins and their short tempers._

But dealing with students and their problems, as annoying as it could be, was part of the job. Part of the job that I wouldn't trade for the world.

I hesitated for a moment before getting up out of my seat and walking towards the spot on the floor where my broken Tele2000 lay. A gift from my brother, Aberforth.

A searing pain shot up from my fingertips to my wrist. "Ahh!" I cried out.

Soon the pain had reached my neck and shot down my back. I could no longer stand. My knees were burning and I fell to the floor. And then unconsciousness hit.

"Professor Dumbledore…Professor Dumbledore…Professor?"

I opened one of my eyes a bit to find Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey kneeling over me. Madam Pomfrey had a glass of Nathaniel's Numbing Serum in her hand, the other on my wrist checking for a pulse. Professor Snape was eyeing the ring on my left middle finger suspiciously.

Or was he looking at my black, shriveled hand. _My black, shriveled hand_.

I gasped in shock as I realized what had happened.

I addressed Madam Pomfrey particularly. "I'm fine, Poppy. You must tend to the children now."

Madam Pomfrey nodded unsurely, and then gently rested the glass of blue-gray liquid on my desk. "Take a tablespoon every hour, two if the pain is unbearable," she instructed, tiptoeing out the door and down the staircase leading to my office.

"Severus."

"Professor Dumb-"

"We both know that I've asked you to address me as Albus, Severus."

"Albus," Snape started glancing up at me, as if checking for approval. I smiled lightly in response. "We both know that you have some clue as to what has just happened."

"Are you asking for an explanation, Severus?"

"I believe I am, Albus."

"I'm not so sure as to where to start."

"Where did you find that ring, Albus?"

"I am to assume that you are talking about this ring, not this one?" I said holding two identical rings in my hand. One was on my burnt hand, the other, on my normal one.

"Yes, Albus, the harmful one."

"You know as well as I that this one," I said, holding the safe one in my hand, "came from your desk." I placed it in his open palm and curled his fingers around it.

"And the other?"

"That is for me to know, and for you to figure out."

I turned back to my desk and sat down, staring out the window in front of me.

"Oh, I think I have it figured out, Albus."

I turned back around to face Severus.

"You do, do you?"

"Yes, yes I do, Albus."

"Cut the formalities. What do you have in mind?"

"It's a horocrux. I'm not stupid, you know. And I am a Death Eater."

"And you are right. How should we dispose of it, Severus, as you seem to be the expert on dark magic?"

He walked over to my case of artifacts from the school's founders and pulled out Gryffindor's sword, then promptly walked back to his seat and handed me the sword.

"Ah, a wise choice. Much wiser than mine of asking Potter to return to the Chamber of Secrets and steal me a basilisk fang."

Severus smirked and got out of his seat.

"If you won't be needing me any further, I have a detention to handle."

"Oh, Severus. Let the poor boys go. What are you punished the Golden Duo for this time?"

"Sneaking around the corridors after midnight."

"Where?"

"The Room of Requirement."

"Ah, right, because they couldn't have possibly just needed a bathroom, right?"

Severus frowned.

"Albus, this is the last time I will dismiss the fact that Weasley and Potter have earned a detention."

I looked up at him with a shocked expression.

He rolled his eyes.

"Please send them each an owl saying that I am too busy and that their detentions will be canceled."

"Can do."

After sending the owls, I promptly ripped the ring off my finger. I picked up the sword and smashed down on the ring three times before an earsplitting shriek escaped it.

A ghost-like figure emerged from its depths and spoke in an eerie voice.

"Ah, Professor, missing me so soon?"

"No, Tom, I am on a mission."

"Are, you, Professor?"

"Yes, Tom, I am."

"And what might that be, Professor?"

"To destroy your seven horocruxes and help Potter to kill you."

"Ah, okay."

"That's it, Riddle."

"Yes, but I must warn you, don't become too involved in my plans."

"Why, Riddle, should I not 'become to involved?'"

"Oh, never mind."

I stabbed the ring again. Riddle screamed again, and disappeared. I quickly cast a banishing charm on the ring's remains, and got ready for bed. _What a long day it has been_.


	3. Bellatrix Lestrange

Word Count: 667

Letter: B

Person: Bellatrix Lestrange

Who Else I Considered For The Part: Bartemius Crouch, Sr.

Why I Picked Bellatrix: Because, A: Bartie is kind of boring. And B: She is related to Sirius, who is absolutely AWESOME.

Summary: Bellatrix teaches Draco Occlumency.

I stepped out of the fireplace coughing. "Wow, Cissy, you really do need to get that fixed."

"I'm sorry, Bell, but it would be kind of strange to walk into the Ministry and ask to be re-added to the Floo Network when my husband was just killed and my son has just received the Dark Mark, don't you think?"

"Ah, yes, a bit strange, maybe, but it would be so much more convenient."

Narcissa stared at me like any younger sister would when dealing with her family.

"So, are you going to tell me why I was rushed over here?"

She ushered me onto her deck and closed the mahogany door.

"You might want to sit down for this."

"Cissy, what could possibly be-"

She interrupted me by shoving me down onto a bench.

"Well, that was rude."

"The Dark Lord wants him out of the way."

"_What_? Who, Cissy? Draco?"

"_No_, you ignorant fool, Dumbledore!"

"And your point is…."

"He has ordered Draco the assignment!"

"Again, what does this have to do with me?"

"You're a pretty adept Legilimens."

"Your complete change of subject is confusing me."

"Wow, Bell, I never knew you were so slow!"

"Oh!"

"What?"

"I think I understand!"

She looked at me expectantly.

"You want me to pass on my skills."

"No, Bell, I want you to teach Draco Occlumency!"

"Oh, okay."

Cissy grabbed my arm roughly and dragged me inside, where Draco was at the kitchen table with a glass of butter beer and a magazine.

"Oh, Aunt Bellatrix, what are you doing here?"

"Ah, Draco, I came for a little visit."

He raised an eyebrow, silently asking me to explain further.

"I'm teaching you Occlumency."

His eyes opened in shock and his jaw fell slack. "No way!"

"Yes, way!"

"Ha. I've wanted to learn for years, but mother would never let me!"

"Draco, the whole point of becoming an Occlumens is to get Legilimens _out_ of your head."

"Sorry, Aunt Bell."

"It's fine; that's what practice is for. Now are you ready for another go?"

He nodded his head and took a deep breath in, then promptly released it. "This is useless."

"No, no, Draco it's not. What's wrong?"

"I don't want to share any more of my private thoughts with my aunt."

"Oh, Draco, it's okay. Anyways, I've seen your first two years of Hogwarts and half of your third; now I'm curious as to the rest of your education."

Without warning, I dove into his thoughts, overwhelming myself with the appearance of the all-too-familiar building. Stonewalls and secret passageways. Trips to Hogsmeade. Zonko's. The Three Broomsticks.

He struggled against the intruder and I was eventually removed from his thoughts.

"Better."

"Thank you."

"Again?"

"Why not?"

This time, unfamiliar faces. Labeled with little doodles around them. I skimmed through them all, not really caring. Stopping at one, Potter. Devil horns and scribbled above his head. I smirked.

I skimmed through the rest, stopping at the ones along the way with snide comments or insane doodles.

I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw a picture of a girl, Granger, it was labeled. Draco had mentally drew a heart around her head and crossed out her last name, replacing it with his.

I willingly withdrew myself from his mind.

"What was that, Draco?"

"Please don't tell anyone. Please, Aunt Bell, please," was his response, hoarse and concerned.

I smiled down at him, "Blood status?"

"Mudblood."

"Your secret is safe with me."


	4. Cedric Diggory

Word Count: 910

Letter: C

Character: Cedric Diggory

Who Else I Considered For The Part: Cho Chang, Cornelius Fudge

Why I Chose Cedric: Because I was once a crazed _Twilight_ fan, and, even though I like Harry Potter much more, my loyalties to Edward Cullen, aka, Robert Pattinson, aka, Cedric Diggory, remain. Ha ha, plus Cho is a jerk, and Cornelius is just plain mean to Harry.

Summary: Cedric's version of the Triwizard Tournament's first event. I will skip around a lot, so please forgive me.

"Thanks, Potter."

Dragons. Honestly, _dragons_. One of the most dangerous creatures alive. And they were going to make us fight them. Wow, modern education really was changing.

When I really though about why I was picked, I mean _really_ thought about it, I couldn't come up with anything but questions. If Potter got his name in the Goblet, why not Fred and George? And besides that, if his name was in there, why did mine get drawn at all? I mean, it's flattering, sure, but compared to Potter, I don't matter. None of us matter, really. None of us have survived You-Know-Who, and none of us have had to stand up to him more than once. None of us have the guts to do half the stuff Potter does anyway, mind you.

After those depressing thoughts left my mind, I decided to head up to the library to catch up on my reading. Preferably on dragons.

This was it. Today was November 24th, the day of the first event. I woke up, washed my face, and was rudely awakened by a crash in the common room.

I quickly walked out of the dorms in the direction of the crash. Ernie Macmillan lie on the floor, clutching his knee, a lamp, separated from its shade and its bulb broken, scattered around him.

"What is it, Macmillan?"

He groaned and handed me a scroll, "For you-urgh!"

Meet the rest of the finalists by the Care of Magical Creatures classroom before your first class. Do not worry; you are excused from all work for today.

That was it; it wasn't signed, it wasn't dated. Just a simple message. It wasn't even addressed to me, as a usual message from a teacher would be, no _Mr. Diggory_ or _Cedric_.

First. I would be going first. And I would be fighting a Swedish Short-Snout. I gulped.

I'd done enough reading to know that it not only lived in wild, inhabited areas, but that its skin was highly prized and a brilliant blue, like it's flames. I gulped again.

Soon enough, I had my plan sought out and my self-esteem level up. But as soon as the announcer called my name ("Please welcome the first champion, Cedric Diggory, from Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry!") and applause broke out from the audience, I forgot how to walk.

Fleur pushed me along, thankfully, otherwise I wouldn't have made it out there, and as soon as I caught a flash of blue I lost all thoughts.

"Ready, son?" I recognized Charlie Weasley as he opened the gate and ushered me in.

I gave a weak smile as I rethought out my plan. I would do whatever was easiest, whatever came naturally. Whatever that was.

All I knew was that if I didn't do something soon, the dragon would make the first move. I looked it straight in the eyes and did what I thought was best. _Expelliarmus!_

Laughter burst out through the crowd. Obviously that wasn't the right thing to do, as dragons don't carry wands, Cedric. Oh great, now I'm talking to myself too. This isn't the time for this!

"Do something!" Charlie Weasley again, I was beginning to like that guy. Always helping me come to my senses.

I had meant to Accio the egg. I really had. I had meant to just simply Accio the egg and end it. But that's not what I did. Not at all.

I hadn't meant to do what I did. Seriously, it would have been much easier the original way. Accio. Accio. Accio. Why could I remember that now, but not then? Why?

I was in absolute denial. Absolute denial. Accio. Accio. Accio.

But no, I had to go with my gut. I was afraid. Afraid that because incoherency had taken over, that if I were to speak, as I wasn't the best at silent spells, I would mess up and end up turning _Accio_ into _Crucio_ or something absolutely ridiculous along those lines.

So I went with my gut, and my gut said "Transfiguration." It was my best subject and had never done me wrong…yet. But I decided to take the chance anyway.

Even then, I hadn't meant to do what I had done. A golden egg was just as simple to transfigure as a dog. But a dog came out of that rock, not an egg. Stupid rock.

The dragon had lunged at the dog. Nudged it. Played with it. Bitten it. Even eaten it.

I made my quick getaway and grabbed the egg, in enough time for the dragon to finish eating the rock-dog-thing and come after me yet again.

And then there was blue. Lots of it. And let me tell you, it is no longer my favorite color. At all. No matter what Cho says.

And neither is orange, for the record, after it was applied to my face every hour in the form a sickly-sweet smelling cream.


	5. Draco Malfoy

_IMPORTANT_ A/N: Hey everyone!! Thanks for reading and reviewing. My sincerest thanks to everyone who read my story, especially those who added me to their story alerts system. I am deeply impressed. I never thought that after a disclaimer and three chapters that I would have over 300 hits!! But only 5 reviews. I hate to nag, but R&R is always deeply appreciated, and I try to reply to all of my reviews for this story.

Also, I know that you all hate long author's notes, but I need to inform you that I will be posting two chapters for D. Not only because I couldn't decide between two amazing characters to use, but also because I will be attending a wedding tomorrow and can't post. Sorry, but I am going to make up for it by posting twice today. And I also know that some of you are going to hate me for using this character now, so I am making up for it in the next chapter, also a D, that'll be posted as soon as it's finished.

I would also like to point out that everyone is kind of OOC. Well, sorry, but in this case, the character is as acquainted with his to-be peers as the visitor, and he seemed almost shy in the book too, so please remember that. And I got all the HP books from our local library, so I didn't exactly have them on hand for reference, so this will not be exactly as you remember it. At all.

Thanks for reading!! Now, on with the story…

Word Count: 783

Letter: D

Character: Draco Malfoy

Other Characters I Considered For This Part: I'm not going to tell you because that would give away whom I am going to use for the next D chapter!

Why I picked Draco: I didn't like the fact that he had like, less than 10 lines in the HBP movie, so I decided that I would make up for it myself. Ha ha.

Summary: What was going through Draco's mind when he first met Harry Potter in Madam Malkin's robe shop?

"Ow! Watch it, will you?"

I was standing on a round piece of wood, raised above the floor, waiting for Madam Malkin to finish pinning my new school robes. She took a ridiculously long amount of time, but in the end the result was satisfying enough that we always returned. Besides the fact that it was the only robe shop within walking distance of the mansion.

"Sorry, Draco, dear," Madam Malkin spat out after disintegrating under my mother's death glare.

"Oh, honey, I'll be right with you."

"W-?" I glanced to my left. Another boy, looking about my age, was standing on another round, raised-up platform next to me.

His hair was dark brown, and naturally stuck up in all directions. His eyes were a shockingly bright green. His appearance looked as though I had seen it before, but I just couldn't manage to match a name to his all-too-familiar face.

"Heading to Hogwarts too?" I asked, honestly curious.

It looked as though he was having a hard time figuring out that I was talking to him. I just looked at him, expecting an answer.

"Oh, Hogwarts. Y-yes. I-I am," he stuttered.

"Me too," I replied, and he looked utterly relieved to know he wouldn't be alone.

He reached a hand up to the front of his head and attempted to smooth down a patch of his hair, almost as if he was trying to hide something.

I laughed. "What in Merlin's beard are you trying to do?"

"Nothing," he grinned.

"I'm Draco, by the way, Draco Malfoy."

"I…I…I'm…Derek, yea, Derek Fisher."

"I want to be in Slytherin, I know I will be. You?"

"I'm…not sure yet. I'm sure I'll be fine wherever they put me."

"Slytherin is really the only respectable house. I mean, there's Gryffindor, the 'brave,' but they're usually all smart mouths. And then there are the Ravenclaw nerds, and the odds and ends that get sorted into Hufflepuff. You'd be better in Slytherin, just trust me."

"Whatever you say."

"I'm thinking about making my parents buy me a new broom. What kind do you have?"

"You fly?"

"Of course I fly, I'm a wizard, aren't I?"

"Yes, I guess so. Otherwise we wouldn't exactly be here, would we?"

I laughed again. "No, I guess not. You with the big- ow! Watch it! - oaf, Hagrid, out there?"

"He is not an oaf!" Derek seemed insulted.

"Yes, an oaf and a servant, that's what he is."

And at that Madam Malkin handed the robes to my mother. "See you on the train!" And we walked away.


	6. Dobby The House Elf

**Word Count: 704**

**Letter: D**

**Character: Dobby!! =]**

**Why I Chose Dobby: Who doesn't love Dobby? And I would totally be with Hermione on her SPEW campaigns!**

**Summary: Dobby's job interview with Professor Dumbledore. And sorry if it's hard to understand, but this **_**is **_**Dobby's thoughts!**

Dobby knocked on the office door. "Enter."

Dobby pushed as hard as Dobby could on the tall wooden door. Dobby curled Dobby's fingers around the bottom and pulled with all of Dobby's strength. Dobby looked up and down the door, and spotted a shiny bronze thing, just out Dobby's reach. Dobby jumped. Again and again Dobby went up and down, Dobby's hands above Dobby's head, landing with a loud thud each time. Dobby even managed to ram into the door a few times, after loosing Dobby's balance. Finally, Dobby gave up.

"Sir," Dobby said out of breath, "Dobby needs help opening the door."

Dobby heard Professor Dumbledore get up and walk over and open the door. "Hello, Dobby."

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore. That shiny thing on the door. What is it?"

"It is a doorknob, Dobby."

"What does it do, Professor Dumbledore?"

"It opens the door, Dobby. Which is why you, just recently, were unable to open it."

"Oh, very neat, Professor Dumbledore. Dobby wants one just like it someday."

"Do you?"

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore."

"But I am to assume that Dobby didn't come here to talk about doorknobs, did you?"

"No, Professor."

"What does Dobby need then?"

"Dobby is in need of a job, sir. And he wants one right here, sir, at Hogwarts, with Harry Potter and his friend, Wheezy. But no one wants to pay a house elf. No one, sir."

"If Dobby wants paying, Dobby shall get paying. How does ten Galleons a week sound? And weekends off?"

"No, no, sir, you is misunderstanding. Dobby wants freedom, he really does, but not that much, sir, no."

"No, Dobby, you will earn it."

"Dobby only wants small payment, sir, that is all Dobby wants."

"Okay, Dobby, how about one Galleon a week and weekends off?"

"No, sir, there is always work to be done."

"But, Dobby, you are free, you are to have time for yourself."

"No, sir."

"Okay, Dobby. How many days off a month would you like?"

"None, sir."

"Okay, Dobby. You can a galleon a week and a day off per month."

"Is Professor Dumbledore okay with Dobby taking one day off a month?"

"Yes, Dobby, absolutely."

"Sir, can Dobby wash Professor Dumbledore's socks? Dobby likes socks, sir, lots of socks. Ever since Harry Potter put one in the diary of Mast Lucius and Master Lucius gave the diary to Dobby, Dobby has loved socks. Dobby has a collection, sir, of socks. All thanks to Harry Potter, Dobby has been opened up to the wonderful world of socks. Dobby wants lots of socks, sir, so many so-"

"Yes, Dobby, you can wash my socks if you feel it necessary."

"Oh, thank you sir! Thank you!"

"You can start tomorrow, Dobby."

"Dobby thanks Professor Dumbledore with his deepest kindness."

"It's my pleasure, Dobby."

"Can Dobby go visit his friend Harry Potter and his friend Wheezy and the girl…the one with the frizzy hair, sir?"

"Of course, Dobby."

"Thank you, sir."

Dobby headed towards the door and jumped again. _Thud!_ That sound was beginning to annoy Dobby.

Dobby heard Professor Dumbledore get up out of his shiny seat and open the…the…_doorknob_ for Dobby.

"Thank you, sir."

Now Dobby was embarrassed.

"Oh, and, Dobby?"

"Yes, sir?"

"There is no need to call me sir. I don't care if you call me a barmy old codger if that makes you happy."

"Oh, but sir, Dobby mustn't. Dobby must respect his masters."

"But I thought Dobby was a free elf."

"Oh, he is, but Professor Dumbledore is paying Dobby, isn't he? Dobby mustn't speak badly of his…his…_employer_."

Professor Dumbledore…he…_chuckled_ at Dobby. _Chuckled_.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Dobby. Then you can wash my socks."


	7. Ernie Macmillan

**Word Count: 1,023**

**Letter: E**

**Character: Ernie Macmillan**

**Other Characters Who I Considered: Ernie Prang**

**Why I Chose Ernie Macmillan: He is present in more of the books and therefore is easier to write about; also, most people have absolutely no clue who Ernie Prang is. For those of you who don't, he is the driver of the Night Bus.**

**Summary: Ernie's conversation with Hannah Abbott about Harry being Slytherin's heir. **

I looked up from my Charms book to greet Hannah who had just walked up to my table in the library.

"Can I sit here?"

"I don't see any reason why you can't."

She smiled at me and pulled out the chair across from me, draping her school bag over the back.

I turned back to my essay. Professor Flitwick had assigned 10 inches on the Confundus Charm. I had a paragraph on its origin, a paragraph on the wand movement and pronunciation of the incantation, one on the uses, and three inches of empty space left. I had just flipped to the page on its etymology when Hannah cleared her throat in my direction. I looked up.

"Don't you think it's weird?"

"What? Charms?"

"No!"

"Then what?"

"You know darn well what!"

"No, Hannah, I don't."

"_Harry Potter_!"

"We've all established that he's in our school, Hannah. Where else would he have gone?"

"I dunno, Durmstrang? But that's besides the point, Ernie!"

"I have absolutely no clue what you're talking about!"

"Really?!"

Her sarcasm was the last straw. I turned back to my work and scribbled on the page. _The Confundus Charm's incantation, _confundo, _was possibly derived from the Latin verb _confundere_. This verb means_

"Ernie?"

I momentarily hesitated before glancing up at her, my neck still bent down over my parchment. I noticed that she had taken her Potions book out and had opened to some random page, doodling in the margins. It looked like some sort of pattern of snakes, all intertwined together.

"Hannah?"

She smiled. "Harry Potter, according to Lavender, who isn't always the most accurate source of information, is Slytherin's heir."

_Slytherin's heir_. Was he really? I voiced my opinion to Hannah, who seemed pleased with my contribution to today's latest gossip.

"I'm not sure I understand, Hannah. I mean, wouldn't Slytherin's heir be pureblood. Is Potter pureblood? Wasn't his mother muggle-born? I mean, if he's even _half_-blood, there's a better chance that _I'm_ Slytherin's heir. And-"

"Are you suggesting that _you're_ Slytherin's heir?"

"What? No! No, Hannah! Of course not! Absolutely, positively no! Hannah, are you insane?!"

"No."

"Then, will you answer my questions?"

"Oh…umm…Harry's half-blood, I'm sure of that. But, look at the evidence! He not only is a definite Parselmouth, but really, why would You-Know-Who have wanted to kill him if he _wasn't_ his heir, Ernie?"

I wasn't exactly sure if someone had placed her under a Confundus Charm or what, but it didn't seem possible that Harry Potter could be the heir of bloody _Slytherin_. Or any Slytherin for that matter. Not generous, innocent, courageous, famous _Harry Potter_. Just because the poor kid had a bad past doesn't mean that he has to have a bad future either. Or, a bad present for that matter.

"Hannah, are you sure?"

"And get this, Ernie," she said, completely ignoring me. "If Harry is Slytherin's heir, he might possibly be able to open the _Chamber of Secrets_."

"The Chamber of Secrets?"

"Yes, don't you know what it is?"

"Er…no."

She rolled her eyes. "It was supposedly created by Salazar Slytherin, who only wanted to teach purebloods, and is home to a 'monster' of some sort that is to rid the school of all muggle-borns."

"Oh."

"Which means that good 'ol Harry might be that one taking and paralyzing all the students."

"No! I mean…Harry…couldn't…"

"You wouldn't think so, but he might. Everyone has a secret alias these days. Mr. Anti Dark Lord could be a junior Death Eater for all we know."

And with that Hannah gathered her things and left me alone at my table in the library.

Back in the common room, I pondered about Salazar Slytherin and his possible "Chamber of Secrets."

Would Harry honestly be able to harm all those people and not feel any guilt? Or, was he feeling guilt, but was just amazing at bottling up emotions? I knew he had the emotional range of at least a tablespoon. **(a/n: Hahahaa…don't you get it? My lame attempt at humor…) **

Could that explain Potter's strange behavior lately? Or his talking to himself? And since when was he a Parselmouth, seriously? Did anyone believe that? Obviously, Hannah did…

Who was I kidding? There was no way Potter would do that.

Or was there? In a situation like this, skepticism was common, but I think I might be taking it too far…or was I?

If anyone could read my thoughts, I'm sure they would have thought that I was confunded and have sent me to St. Mungo's by now.

_I can read your thoughts._

Ahh!!

_Don't be afraid. I'm only your conscious._

Really? What is your view on this whole thing?

_Well personally, I don't think St. Mungo's is _completely_ out of the question._

That was mean.

_I know._

But I was talking about my other situation.

_Oh, I think you should just ask her out._

Who?

_Hannah!_

I don't like her!

_Yes, you do. I hear all of your thoughts._

Really?

_Yep!_

Ughh..

Mwahahahaa…

But I wasn't talking about that either.

There's a third situation? Man, you have issues!

The "Potter Situation."

_?_

Is he or isn't he Slytherin's heir?

Totally. The proof is all there!

True…

Well, good luck in Herbology tomorrow!

Herbology?

Yeah, that's when you're partnered with Potter!

Maybe I'll just warn him I'm pureblood.

Yeah, cause that'll work. I can see it now. You say 'Hey Potter, don't get any ideas. I'm pureblood. I can trace it back nine generations.' And then he says 'LEAVE ME THE HECK ALONE!' and uses some forbidden spell or something on you.

Maybe it's not such a good idea.

Just keep him close.

Close?

'Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer.'


	8. Fred Weasley

_**Word Count:**_** 1, 291**

_**Letter:**_** F**

_**Character:**_** Fred Weasley**

_**Who Else I Considered:**_** Filius Flitwick**

_Why I Chose Fred:_ There are more opportunities to write about when speaking of Fred, or any Weasley for that matter, where as Professor Flitwick, although it sounds funny to get to write about someone who is described as 'part-goblin,' is rarely mentioned in the books and therefore would be difficult to write about.

_Summary:_ Fred and George steal the Marauder's Map from Filch's office and discover the many secrets it beholds.

---

George and I were serving our detentions for Filch in his dusty office, rewriting cards of previous troublemakers, their mischief, and their punishments. Obviously, the punishments weren't severe enough, as many of the names came up various times.

Filch just sat in the corner, looking at a _mysterious _piece of old parchment. Every twenty minutes or so, he would get up and leave, muttering something like "Not again, Peeves!" or "Finnegan is going to pay" under his breath and giving George and I a you-better-stay-put-or-I'll-hang-you-by-your-ankles look. We would sustain our laughter until he was out of earshot.

After a good hour and a half, Filch stuffed the rolled up parchment into a drawer in his desk and left another time, growling "Jordan" in a barely audible voice. Again, he gave George and I a look, but told us "we were to be free after he came back." We agreed that this was very un-Filch like.

"Fred, psssst, Fred, psssssssssssssssssssst." How annoying George could be at times.

"What, George? Sprung a leak? Need some duct tape?" I questioned, sarcasm drowning my voice.

"No!" He seemed offended.

"Then what?" I asked matter-of-factly.

"That parchment was very…_mysterious_," he said, quoting my thoughts.

"I know, George, but what are we going to do about it?" I commented sarcastically.

"I dunno, Fred. Steal it?" he suggested.

"Good idea," I replied, as if the thought hadn't crossed my mind once.

George got up out of his seat across from me at the table that looked as though some of Flich's hangees had fallen on top of it. He walked over to the door, which looked as though some of Filch's hangees had walked into it, looked left, then right, then back at me, and motioned for me to follow him.

He slowly made his way to Filch's desk, which looked as though some of Filch's hangees had let a troll loose on it, threw it into a fire, then transfigured it back together carelessly. He grabbed onto the handle of the drawer that we had just watched him shove the old "mysterious" parchment into and pulled. Nothing.

_Alohomora! _I thought, pointing my wand at the drawer. "Try it now," I whispered to George.

He easily pulled the drawer open and, after rummaging through the messy, burnt, troll-beaten drawer for a moment, pulled the parchment our and stuck it in the pocket of his robes.

We tip-toed quickly back to our beaten chairs and acted as though we were rewriting cards just in time for Filch to burst through the doors and grumble "Go, Weasleys."

Both of us simultaneously got up out of our chairs (the beaten ones) and made our way to the familiar hallways.

"You know, George, we should be proud of what we've done." I said.

"What _did_ we do, Fred?" he responded.

"We _took_ the _mysterious_ parchment from _Filch_." I replied, putting unnecessary emphasis on some of my words.

"_Why_ are you _talking_ like _this_?" he asked, mimicking my emphasis problem.

"I dunno."

"So what do you think it does?"

"I dunno."

"Well, why would Filch be reading it for two straight hours, then getting up after random intervals and mumbling about punishing people?"

"I dunno. Maybe he's delusional."

"Good point."

By then we had made it to the Gryffindor portrait hole. "Balderdash." The Fat Lady opened up and allowed us to climb in before closing again.

We made our way to the first year dorms and plopped down on beds. No one was around, as all of them were at dinner, whilst we served our detention to Filch.

George took out the parchment and tapped it with his wand. "Reveal yourself." Nothing. I stifled a laugh. "Open sesame." Nothing. I let a chuckle slip. "We just want to know what you do!" Absolutely nothing. I laughed. "Why don't you have a go at it, eh?"

I pulled my wand out of the pocket of my robe. "Mischief makers unite!" The parchment flickered and the words "you're getting closer" scrawled themselves across the page. "I swear I'm not Filch." That jerked "closer" out of the bewitched parchment.

Once more I tapped my wand to the yellowed, dog-eared parchment. "My name is Fred Weasley. I make more mischief than anyone in this school. Just tell me what to do."

Out of nowhere, the parchment flickered to life and the words "Marauder's Map" were suddenly visible. Then, it died down again and faded back to its original, worse-than-Filch's-office self.

"Your turn, George."

He spun his wand in a figure eight between his fingers, pondering what to say. "I swear that I am up to mischief."

Again the parchment revealed a piece of its hidden information. The words "tail" and "moon" were visible for a split second, a time so brief that if you were to blink, you'd have missed it.

I took a deep breathe tapped the parchment with my wand and spoke. "I _solemnly_ swear that I am up to _no good_."

And at that, we had cracked it. Ink flooded the page in intricate lines and squiggles, forming letters, and finally words. After about three minutes, the "Marauder's Map" was completely visible.

Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

Are proud to present:

THE MARAUDER'S MAP

We each took a flap and opened it up, revealing a detailed map of Hogwarts. There was all of the rooms, all of the secret passageways, and even all of the people.

By studying the map you could tell that Professor Snape was in his office; Professor McGonagall was sitting in the headmaster's office, waiting for Professor Dumbledore to return from the…bathroom; Madam Pomfrey was tending to Lee Jordan in the Hospital Wing; Professor Flitwick was talking to Hagrid in Professor Sprout's garden; she was in her office with Alicia Spinnet; Oliver Wood was in the library; most of the other students were in the house common rooms or dorms, except for a few in the hallways with students from other houses, and the occasional peer in the library.

"George, it's-"

"Beautiful!"

We both broke out in fits of laughter. Even Moaning Myrtle was visible. Peeves, the Bloody Baron, the Grey Lady, the Fat Friar, and Nearly-Headless Nick were too.

"George, whoever made this, whoever these Moony, Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail people are they're-"

"I know, Fred, they're geniuses in my book too."

"George, one tiny problem."

"Huh?"

"How do you turn it off?"

"Easy, tap it with your wand and say the magic words."

"Which are?"

"ʻI solemnly swear that I am up to no good.'"

I tapped my wand to it again and repeated George's words.

"No go, brother."

He tried. "You're right."

"Well, we've managed enough mischief for tonight."

"Wait! Fred, maybe that's it!"

"What? Tonight?"

He shook his head. "No."

He tapped his wand to the map again. "Mischief managed." At that, it was gone, faster than it had appeared.

"Genius."

"Why thank you, Fred."

"Not you! These marauders."

"Oh, right. Geniuses."

And we slipped the parchment in one of our trunks in enough time to act natural before everyone came back from dinner. Although, if you really knew us, we were a little to giddy, as Lee so kindly pointed out.


	9. Ginevra Weasley

_**Word Count: **_**1,074**

_**Letter: **_**G**

_**Character:**_** Ginevra Molly "Ginny" Weasley**

_**Other Characters I Considered:**_** George Weasley & Gilderoy Lockhart**

_**Why I Chose Ginny:**_** After figuring that Professor Lockhart is a complete **_**jerk**_**, I had to narrow it down between George and Ginny. I was actually going to go with George, but as he was practically the main character with Fred last chapter, Ginny seemed the right way to go.**

_**Summary:**_** Ginny's thoughts as she spots Harry Potter in her kitchen.**

---

"Ugh."

I rolled over onto my back and stared at the ceiling, wishing I could sleep longer. It turned a rich shade of green as my thoughts wandered elsewhere.

I landed with a thud as I fell out of my bed. I half consciously treaded over to the door, pulling my pink robe over my silky pajamas and slipping my feet into my fluffy slippers.

The stairs creaked as I slowly trudged down them to a kitchen full of family. The sound of laughter and the scent of pancakes filled the air.

Fred and George were sitting next to each other, drawing on their pancakes with maple syrup. Each had a stack of three on the cream colored dishes in front of them, passing the bottle back and forth to add to their "art."

Mum stood over the sink, mixing more batter while Dad stood by the stove, flipping pancakes. Every ten minutes, she'd walk over with an over-flowing bowl and place it beside the stove; in turn, Dad would hand her a heaping plate of pancakes to dish out to all takers.

Ron was barely sitting, stuffing his face with pancakes. Syrup was dripping down his chin flooded his plate. He clutched his plate to his chest, allowing the syrup to drench his shirt. As he walked over to Dad to get a hold of another helping, I could have sworn I saw syrup glistening in his hair, too.

It was a classic, summer Saturday morning. Almost.

Practically everything was as it usually was - Dad and Mum cooking, Ron stuffing his face, even Fred and George being sickly creative.

As Ron sat down though, permitting a rather large plop of syrup to make contact with my chair, might I add (and even that was pretty normal), he turned to talk animatedly with an all-too-familiar-looking bloke with all-too-familiar-looking messy black hair. As he turned I could tell he was wearing all-too-familiar-looking glasses over all-too-familiar-looking eyes that were the same shade of vivid green that had haunted my ceiling earlier today.

I did the only thing I was currently capable of doing. I screamed.

Unfortunately, walking was not one of the things I was currently capable of doing, as I tripped when I turned to walk up the stairs and crashed into a vase of Mum's daisies.

I braced myself for the rough contact with the floor that I knew was to come soon. But it never came.

Two strong arms came around my waist. "You okay there?"

And I screamed. Again.

---

"Ginny, seriously, control yourself!"

Hermione was sitting on the edge of the bed with me, trying to calm me down and get me to act natural. I hadn't even had enough willpower to come downstairs and greet her when she arrived. (Although, I had tried to make up for that by apologizing and making sure to offer my room to her instead of Bill or Charlie's old one, to which she gladly excepted.)

"Well, seriously, 'Mione, how would you feel if a famous wizard showed up at your house for the summer?"

"Ginny, I know how you feel. He showed up at my school. In Gryffindor, none the less."

"But you didn't have a dream about him that very morning. Then scream, break a vase, and practically fall but then have him catch you, did you?"

"Well, honestly, Gin, no. But him and Ron did once save me from a troll."

"Ron told me about that."

"He did, did he?"

"Yes, although he described you as a bushy-haired, stuck-up know-it-all who refused to listen to authority in serious situations."

"Remind me to embarrass him tomorrow at breakfast."

"Ooh, can I help?"

"You _would_ be to my advantage, knowing all his fears and what not."

"Great."

---

I had skipped lunch and gotten Hermione to ask Mum if we could have dinner in my room, using the excuse that we had some "catching up" to do. She gave us suspicious glances, as we hadn't gone to school together (but had immediately taken to each other) but finally agreed.

When dinner rolled around, Hermione went downstairs to grab each of us or meals and drinks, and returned promptly upstairs to join me.

"You can't do this forever, you know."

"Why not?"

"He thinks you're avoiding him for some bad reason or something."

"Well, can't you just tell him that I'm…going through some stuff so I can?"

"Although I've known Harry to be _extremely_ understanding, Gin, I don't think I can. Besides, we have to plan what we want to do to Ron."

"Yeah, just like, put a boggart in his food or something. It'll probably turn into a spider and freak him out. There's one in the downstairs coat closet."

"Okay, Ginny, thanks."

"No problem."

"And Ginny."

"Huh?"

"I think that if you start to be a bit more yourself, he'll see who you really are and start to like you back."

"How do you know he'll like me back?"

"Who _wouldn't _like you back, Ginny?"

"Thanks, 'Mione. I'm not hungry anymore. Night."

"It's only nine."

"I had a rude awakening this morning. I'm tired."

"Okay. Night, Gin."

I quickly changed into my pajamas, brushed my teeth, and flopped into my bed. I curled up on my pillow and just reminisced about today.

_Oh c'mon. You know Hermione's right._

Ah!

_It is I, your conscience._

Sure, now I'm going insane.

_St. Mungo's is only a call away!_

Stop being so optimistic.

_Look, it's obvious you like him. _

Yeah, I know that. Thanks for the encouragement.

_But have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, he kind of like you back?_

No.

_Yes you have._

How would you know?

_I live inside your head, remember?_

Oh, umm…yeah.

_Yes._

Do you _ever_ give me any privacy?

_Nope._

Ugh.

_That's the second time you've said that today._

Look, leave me alone. I'm tired.

_Okay. Good night, Ginevra._

Good night, annoying voice in my head.

_Hey._


	10. Hermione Jean Granger

**Word Count: ****637**

**Letter: ****H**

**Character:**** Hermione Jean Granger**

**Other Characters I Considered:**** Horace Slughorn & Harry Potter**

**Why I Chose Hermione:**** Horace only comes to play in the last two books, and he's not very interesting, sorry guys. And we were all spoiled with Harry's POV for seven straight books, so I decided to try Hermione.**

**Summary:**** Hermione's trip to the library before she is petrified.**

**---**

After being freed from the hospital wing and cured of my "hairy problem," I headed to the library for some reading on my new theory.

Contemplating what could possibly be causing such disruption in our school, besides Malfoy, I talked to Madam Pomfrey and was able to squeeze bits of information out of her as to what some of the other students said about their petrified friends.

She said that some recalled memories of large yellow eyes, snakes, and water. Others had said that their friends were last seen in bathrooms, or in the wet corridor of the school.

Climbing the last stair, I ran into something. Something hard. Some_one_ hard.

"Watch where you're going, mudblood," he spat.

I brushed past him and ignored the stupid comments that came from the ever-smirking face of Malfoy. Sometimes I just wanted to hit him. Sometimes I wanted to hex him into oblivion. And sometimes I wanted to use a meaningfully aimed Unforgivable on him, in front of everyone.

I walked into the library for the first time in a week or so. I took a deep breath in and sighed before moving out of the doorway and into the Magical Creatures section. I found a ton of interesting books, and eventually found a stack of useless books, mostly titled things like _The Goblins of Gringotts_ and _Magical Creatures A-Z: How Each Could Be Your One-Way Ticket To St. Mungo's_.

I sighed and shook my head. _This is going to take forever._

No, no it's not.

_Yes, yes it is._

Way to think positive.

_You know what you need. You just are completely avoiding it._

What _do _I need?

_The most informational books on _basilisks.

That _is_ what I was thinking about.

I wandered over to the "B" section of "Magical Creatures." I had been here so many times. Just browsing through. I picked up the familiar book of _Rather Deadly Magical Creatures_ by L. Uckyimnotu. I had almost checked this book out before this whole thing started, but thought that I had rather not place a muggle jinx on myself by even reading it.

Now I easily pulled the thick book of the shelf and turned to the index. Under B, I found my first word useful. _Basilisks_. Page 259.

Quickly I turned to the page and tore it out, skimming through it as I did so. Kills people with one gaze into its eyes, or by venom. Exactly. And all of the others were in the wet corridor or the flooded bathroom when they were petrified. They must have just seen a reflection.

But how exactly is it getting around? _Pipes._ I scribbled this on the page. Much easier to find out this way than to be turned into a cat first. I knew the library was always going to be my best friend.

"Penelope, Penelope!"

I had decided to warn the first person I saw.

"Hermione, what's up?"

"May I suggest that before your walk around any corners, look with a mirror first."

"Oh, um, but why?"

"It will lower your risk of getting killed in this time. At the worst you'll be petrified, and there are many known cures for that."

"Oh, well thanks, Hermione. Glad you care so much."

"Thanks for listening. Just spread the word."

"Yes of course. No problem."

I rushed out of the library, page in hand, and no sooner turned the corner than-


	11. Igor Karkaroff

**Word Count: 1,005**

**Letter: I**

**Character: Igor Karkaroff**

**Summary: Karkaroff's panic to Snape the night of the last challenge. He has a wild adventure escaping; my mind got out of hand- sorry. **_**Extremely**_** OOC, and a very poor attempt at slight comedy at parts. (And sorry for my lack of update yesterday!!)**

**- - -**

I suddenly felt a burning sensation on my left forearm. Turning towards the stadium, I thought I knew just where to head. But really, who could think when their mind was foggy with pain and illusions and dread…dread of what would happen if they didn't reply to the Dark Lord's summon.

I squeezed through the crowd, past Dumbledore, the old fool who thought that we were all loyal to _him_ of all people, beyond the giant oaf who was so obviously openly flirting with Maxine, and over the puny half-creature "dueling genius" Flitwick.

Finally I made my way to Severus. He was standing in the corner, muffling a scream. If you ignored the Dark Lord's summons, they only became much less bearable.

His greasy hair was disheveled and strewn about his head. His eyes were watering, almost on the verge of tears. His hook-like nose was covered in sweat, and he was clutching the wall for support.

The only reason I had been able to walk was because _I_, unlike _Severus_, the ignorant _fool_, had acknowledged the fact that I was needed. Immediately.

"We need to go." I whispered hoarsely.

"No. It would…eh…look suspicious if I left now. During an …eek…important time for the…" he took a deep breath in, and released it with a tiny squeak, "school. For the school. Dumbledore would reevaluate his allies."

"The Dark Lord will know that you bailed on him. That you found an enemy's acquaintance more important. That you overlooked him in his time of need, his _rebirth_, Severus. Into a new body. A new life."

"You make it seem as though…he…he…won't trust me. I do his bidding. I find out where _Potter_ is, what _Potter's _doing, how he's to manage to try and kill _Potter_. I'm 'allies' with the best friend of his worst enemy. Do you really think he'll let _me _go, Igor?"

"Grant the Dark Lord's wishes, Severus. Do as he says."

"And what about you, the one who 'does all he asks?' Are you going to go? Are you going to fess up to your wonderful little 'prank?' The one where you…oh…" he pretended to think for a moment. "_gave the names of his most loyal servants to Azkaban_?"

"What to do? What to do?"

"Better make your decision quick, Karkaroff. He'll be here any second looking for his most _loyal_ slave."

I tried to keep the fear out of my voice, but I am sure the chance of it actually being withheld is slim. "The Dark Lord is coming _here_?"

"If you don't make a run for it, sure."

"I…what about you?"

"I told you, I have my pretenses to worry about. He shall understand."

I simply nodded my head before sprinting down the hill of Hogwarts in complete panic. Without any coherent thoughts manageable, I jumped over the fence and into a forest that my mind found suspiciously familiar.

Although only unfamiliar noises filled my ears. Clip clopping of muggle horses. Whinnying, from what I suspected to be a horse as well. Stomping. Scratching. Conversing in foreign languages.

I took a step forward. "Who's here?"

"No one."

_Oh, okay_, I thought to myself.

I turned around and left the forest, pleased that nothing had happened to me. I was so happy I could skip. But instead I knew that I had to run. And I had to do so _fast_. Faster than Severus confronted with a bottle of clarifying shampoo.

And I did. For a moment or too.

My foot caught on a rock. I slid. Into a lake.

I held my breath and swam as fast as I could to the closest shore. I was running out of air. And just as I went to take a gulp of smelly lake air, something grabbed onto my ankle.

Oh, what an unfortunate day I was having.

I ripped my robe to pieces digging for my wand, until my hand finally clasped around it. _Great_. _Permitto Anhelo!_ The Bubble Head charm was always a favorite of mine for some reason.

I swam as fast as I could, kicking harder each time, hoping to get that _thing_ off my leg. Finally I reached the shore, and lost what had turned out to be a merman with exceptionally longhair.

I reached the surface and pulled myself out of the smelly water. I used a series of spells that I had never used, in that order, before. _Exunda__!_ No more Bubble Head charm. _Nidor Commodo__!_ Off with the _horrible_ smell. _Siccus__! _ The water droplets vanished in mid-drip and my robes were completely dry.

I ran yet again and stared back at the now confused Severus. It seems he was keeping an eye on me.

I knew the Dark Lord was getting angry. My arm told me that much. Apparently I wasn't the only late one. I sped up my pace.

And crashed right into a tree. That moved.

It picked me up and tossed me around. It juggled me with its many prickly branches. It was absolutely horrifying. Would He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named accept my excuses? A juggling tree, a swampy lake, and a lost journey to the forest didn't seem too believable to me.

Queasy, dizzy, and in dreadful pain, I attempted to run again. Finding no use in that, I decided it would be easier to walk, rather than run, fall, get up, and run again, only to fall again, and get up, and make a suspicious show out of my escape.

Finally I reached the gates. I stepped outside and apparated to the place that the Dark Lord needed followers to arrive at.

I saw two of the champions from the Triwizard task.

Man, this long night just got longer.


	12. James Potter I

**Word Count: 2,287 (And 10 pages long!!)**

**Letter: J**

**Character: James Potter I**

**Summary: An average day with our friends, the Marauders. A fight with Lily over silly Snivelus, and a final agreement that shocks us all! Mwahahahahahaaa….**

**A/N: My first Marauder's fiction; tell me what you think, I was planning on maybe doing some more like this!!**

**---**

"Look at who we've found here, boys!"

Sirius, Remus, Peter, and I had walked to our usual tree for a little afternoon conversation in the shade, only to find that none other than _Severus Snape_ was sitting beneath it, reading a book, and looking completely innocent. Which he was, you couldn't deny that, but he needed to be punished for even being there in the first place. I ran my fingers through my messy black hair.

"What do you s'pose we do, Remus?"

He replied simply with a flick of his wand and an effortless incantation that we had each known from the start. "_Tarantallegra_!"

At that, silly Snivelus rose to his feet, and started dancing uncontrollably with whatever his spellbound brain could come up with. His voice was shaky, from nervousness or humiliation, or even better yet, the continuous lame dancing, when he spoke. "Y-you w-w-will-l-l p-pay-y f-f-for-r th-th-is-s, J-j-am-m-mes-s!"

"Oh, we shall see about that, little Snivelus. Sirius?"

"Indeed he shall, James, indeed he _shall_."

Sirius's humiliation process was much more harmful than Remus's, we all knew that, for sure. And today was no different. "_Rictusempra_!"

At that, Severus started laughing uncontrollably, clutching his sides, swatting at the imaginary hands that had suddenly decided to humiliate _him_, of all people. Sirius let him laugh until he could hardly breath, then turned on the torture. "_Petrificus__Totalus_!"

His arms shot together and his legs locked so straight that he was unable to support his body upright anymore. _Thump!_ He fell to the ground.

"_Mobiliarbus_!" Sirius had lifted Snape off of the ground, and was soaring him through the sky. He had lowered him to about a centimeter above the lake, then shot him up in the air like a model rocket on the muggle television programs.

He stopped him from falling and allowed him to pick up his book before removing the spells.

"Allow me, James, Sirius, Remus."

I had almost forgot he was there. Peter Pettigrew gave it all he had. He shot a series of different spells, jinxes and curses his way before finally stopping. "_Furnunculus_!" "_Wingardium__Leviosa_!" "_Avis_!" "_Densaugeo_!"

"ENOUGH! _FINITE INCANTATUM_!" The voice always ruined our fun.

"_Flipendo_!" I aimed the spell at Snivelus just to provoke her.

"James, you had _better_ stop this _instant_!" she uselessly commanded.

"Lily, Lily, Lily…what to do with you?" I mocked.

"James, what do I have to do to make you _stop_?" she pleaded.

"You know my wish, Lily." I drawled.

"Fine." she said stubbornly.

"WHAT!?" the now recovered, buck-toothed, disheveled, and covered in boils, but recovered, Severus Snape objected.

Completely ignoring him, I ran my hand through my hair and added, "Great, see you this weekend."

"This weekend?" she questioned, one eyebrow raised in annoyance.

"It's a Hogsmeade weekend, darling. Meet me in the common room at 10 sharp," I replied to her embarrassed, clueless expression.

---

"I can't believe he's finally got the girl."

Remus and Sirius were sitting in the dark, empty common room the night after the "Lily Incident," as Peter liked to call it. I ran my hand through my hair.

"It was only a matter of time, boys, before she broke down at my charm."

"What charm?" the asked simultaneously, then laughed.

"You don't see it? Feel it this very moment in the room with you _right now_?"

"Nope," replied Remus.

"Nothing," said Sirius.

"How 'bout now?" I moved closer.

"Zilch."

"Zero."

I took a rather large step towards each of them. "Now?"

"No."

Sirius pointed his thumb down.

I sat on Sirius's lap. "Do you feel my charm now?"

"Absolutely not."

"No, if anything, I feel _less_ of your charm. The only thing I feel is your wand jamming into my thigh."

We all laughed.

---

"Are you sure I look presentable, Sirius?"

"Absolutely. Lily _doesn't_ like you at _all_, so gelling your hair down, or at least _attempting _to may have helped, and the 'fancy' clothing will look like you're actually trying to impress her. Congratulations. You've passed."

"Great," I said sarcastically.

I glanced over my shoulder at the alarm clock. 9:47. We still had some time before my date, or formal gathering, or half-of-the-party-thinks-its-a-date-the-other's-just-doing-it-for-the-reward, or whatever you wanted to call it, with Lily.

"_Orchideous_!"

I beautiful bouquet of flowers appeared in my hands at the sound of the incantation.

"Day lilies. Nice one, mate. Lily will love that," Remus said sarcastically as he entered the room.

"Sorry, Moony. I just can't get her out of my head."

"And the spell reflects everything you're thinking," Sirius said, mimicking Professor McGonagall.

I checked the clock again, getting anxious. 9:54. Six more minutes.

By 9:56, the nervousness was starting to control me. By 9:57, I couldn't stand it any longer. I turned to Sirius, as Remus was in the library, reading up on theories that may fix his furry little problem.

"Maybe I should just call and cancel."

"No, mate, don't do that."

"And why shouldn't I?" I reached for the phone.

"You've worked so hard just trying to get her to agree, and now she has, and _you're _going to cancel. Thing about how naïve that is!"

"You're right."

"Now go, you're going to be late!"

I shakily walked to the door of the boys' dorms and slipped into the common room. Lily was already sitting on the couch, waiting for me.

"Hey."

"Lily, hello?"

"Lily! Let's go!"

She silently got up from her chair and followed me out of the Gryffindor common room. She was quiet the whole way to the entrance of town when her curiosity got the better of her.

"Where are we going?"

"The Hog's Head."

"Is it nice?"

"It's no Madam Puddifoot's, but it's homey."

"Oh. Anywhere else?"

"Anywhere you want to go. I need some candy from Honeyduke's before we leave, though."

"I need some quills, so it'd be nice if we could stop at Scrivenshaft's. And I was hoping to go Christmas shopping, but it's okay if we don't."

"Your wish is my command."

By then we had reached the Hog's Head. I sat down at the cleanest table and motioned for her to join me.

It was a dimly lit, slightly dusty restaurant, but it was never busy, or noisy, or crowded. There was always an open table and the prices weren't as steep as at the Three Broomsticks or at Madam Puddifoot's.

"What can I get 'cha?"

"I'll have a butterbeer."

"Iced pumpkin juice, please."

After the waiter had left, I asked Lily about her choice of refreshment. "_Iced_ pumpkin juice? In the middle of the winter, Lily? Are you _crazed_?"

"Well, James, as you know, I'm muggle-born. And in the muggle world, you can get alcohol at any time as long as you're 21. And I'm not too fond of it, anyway. I prefer pumpkin juice to butterbeer, and cider to mead."

"That's interesting, very interesting."

She glanced at me strangely, then walked over to the bar to get our drinks.

"Thanks."

She gave me a strange gaze again and returned to her drink.

"You know, the only reason I agreed to do this was because I thought that you'd leave Sev alone. You will, right?"

"I guess. Now that I've got what I wanted."

"_I've_ been what you wanted, all along, James? Me, the filthy, good-for-nothing _mudblood_? Really?"

"Well, yeah. You're stubborn, and don't always give in like the other girls. You're smart, and you care more about your studies than your looks. And despite that, you're pretty anyway. You confuse me. And I always want what I can't have."

She leaned across the table towards me, and stared me in the eyes with her deep grass green ones. "You're a strange man, James Potter."

Over an awkward conversation we finished our drinks. I paid the bartender, left a tip on the table, and we left.

"Scrivenshaft's is closer; we can always catch Honeyduke's on the way back. Are you sure there's no where else you'd like to stop?"

"No, I'm fine, unless you'd like to watch me pick out socks."

"I'd love to watch you pick out socks, Lily."

"Seriously?"

"I am one-hundred percent serious."

"Last time I checked, I thought you were James."

"I _am _James."

"You just said you were Sirius."

Smart, pretty, _ and_ funny. I thought I was in love. Heck, I _knew_ I was in love.

We had reached Scrivenshaft's and she easily opened the door and walked in, dragging me behind her. If there was one shop that I'd never been in while in Hogsmeade, it was this one. I always got my quills in Diagon Alley.

She walked over to the rack of magical quills. After reading the packaging, she picked up two spell-checking quills, a three-pack of multi-colored ink quills, and an invisible ink quill. After second thought, she picked up a pink quill with little hearts on it, checked the price, and then put it back.

"Do you like that quill, Lily?"

"Yes, but it's 15 Galleons and 2 Knuts."

"Oh, shut up, silly girl. I'm not letting you buy those for yourself."

"What? But I need quills. And ink, and parchment, and a book or two, for that matter."

"You look, and pick out what you need. Allow me to pay for them."

"No, James. It'll cost you a fortune."

"At least let me pay for half."

"No."

"C'mon, I need some stuff from here too, I'll just put the orders together and the tax will be lower."

"Fine, James."

"But- wait, okay. Thanks, Lily."

"Thank _you_. You're the one who's going to be out a couple hundred Galleons on school supplies for him and his girlfriend."

Girlfriend. She really wanted to be my girlfriend. She called herself my girlfriend. Hmm…Lily Evans: My Girlfriend. I liked it. A lot.

I grabbed a basket and took the quills from her. Then I added the pink one that she had liked before.

I followed her around the store, picking up things that I needed or wanted as I saw them. I noted that she seemed to prefer bulk quantities in school supplies. Fifty sheets of parchment. One hundred letter-sized parchments. Ten sheets of letter seals, shaped like little hearts, silver ones. A three-year subscription to the _Daily Prophet_.

By the time we had reached the end of the store, the basket was overflowing. About a dozen packs of quills, over 25 packs of parchment, in various sizes, two subscriptions to the _Daily Prophet_, and a few packs of odds-and-ends things like stamps and a book bag.

We walked silently, hand-in-hand, to Honeyduke's, which was closer than Gladrag's. When we finally got there, I chose a charmed basket, which would hold _everything_ we put in it, trying to think ahead. Lily laughed.

"How much candy do you need?"

"More than you."

"Can I pay this time?"

"No; the majority of this is going to be mine, I'm sure of it."

"Why not?"

"You're my _girlfriend_, as you put it, so it's going to be my responsibility to pay from now on."

"Who says we're doing this more than once?"

"Would you like to do this next time?"

"Absolutely."

"Then it's settled."

Bertie Botts's Every Flavour Beans. Acid Pops. Fizzing Whizbees. Sugar Quills. Toothflossing Stringmints. Peppermint Toad Creams. Drooble's Best Blowing Gum.

"Hey, Lily?"

"James?"

"What's Sniv- Severus's favorite candy?"

"Oh, um, I think he likes Licorice Wands, James, and Every Flavour Beans. Why?"

I threw an extra handful of each into my, scratch that, our bag. She also had an armful of things, so I walked closer and allowed her to put her things into the bag as well.

"I'm going to get some stuff wrapped at the cashier's station. I wanted to give him a 'sorry' present, can you give them to him?"

"Sure, but I'm not sure he'll forgive you for almost killing, then saving, but still, almost killing him."

"He told you?"

"I'm his best, and only, friend, James. Of course he did."

"Okay, then, but will you still?"

"I don't see why I shouldn't."

I paid for all the candy and asked to have two packages of Every Flavor Beans and five Licorice Wands wrapped. We walked to Gladrag's for Lily's socks immediately after.

She walked into the quirky store and started looking at socks.

I pointed to the ones that screamed when they were too smelly. "You're too cleanly for these."

She laughed. I skipped over to the ones that singed your feet when you were cold. "Too smart to buy these."

She laughed again. "Need anything, James? I'm done."

"Nope." I skipped over to her, swinging my arms awkwardly.

She laughed again.

"You're so cute when you laugh."

She blushed.

I paid for her socks and we walked to the outskirts of Hogsmeade and back into the castle.

"I had a great time, James. Thanks."

"Same time, next weekend?"

"Sounds great."

I followed her up to the Gryffindor common room and turned left when she turned right.

"How'd it go?" asked Sirius. Remus was staring at me questioningly.

I flopped onto my four-poster. "I think I'm in love."

"I'll take that as a good sign."

Remus asked, "How much did she cost you?"

I turned out my pockets. "I had 500 Galleons when we started."

"Wow, you're in deep. Any thoughts on your now-broke status."

"I don't care."

"Really?"

"I just can't wait for next weekend."


	13. Kreacher

_**Word Count: **_**1, 039**

_**Letter**_**: K**

_**Character**_**: Kreacher**

_**Other Characters I Considered**_**: Katie Bell & Kingsley Schacklebolt**

_**Why I Chose Kreacher**_**: Who doesn't love house elves? And Kreacher gave me so many ideas that I might just have to use some of them!!**

_**Summary**_**: Kreacher leads the house elves in the Battle of Hogwarts during the Second Wizarding War (WWII).**

**---**

"KREACHER, HELP!"

_Pop!_ At the sound of my name followed by an SOS from Master Harry and his friends, I apparated instantly onto the Hogwarts grounds.

"Yes, Master Harry?" I asked anxiously. He had never, ever screamed at me before.

"I need you to fight. All the men and women in Death Eater uniforms and anyone who's not on our side need to be done with. Lead the house elves and fight. Fight for me. For Master Regulus," he commanded, nervousness and determination thickly layering his voice.

"For Master Regulus!" I screamed and was on my way.

I apparated into the Hogwarts kitchen. "We must fight, fellow elves!" I directed as though I was their Master.

"For what?" asked a particularly tall elf with short ears and bright red eyes.

"For Master Harry. For Master Regulus. For Master Dumbledore," I replied.

"For Harry Potter? Dobby will fight," said a sock-covered elf with large, green eyes.

"Are you with me?" I shouted.

We all clasped hands and apparated to the locations of all the other house elves. We managed to collect another dozen in the dormitories, and at least eight dozen between each of the house common rooms.

After completing my first objective in the mission from Master Harry, I decided to protect the house elves from harm, rather than releasing them upon the dangerous people who could force us to drink barrels poison, or control our minds with a flick of their wand.

"Grab your weapons!" I said, starting to feel guilty for commanding my equals.

Maybe I shouldn't do this. Maybe Dobby will take over for me. The free elf with the socks and the bad grammar would do it.

No, Master Harry had asked _me_. He wanted to help me get revenge on those for hurting Master Regulus and almost killing me. He wanted to let me help him, as any good house elf would.

Was I a good house elf? If I hadn't been in the past, I was going to make it up to all of my masters now.

I was startled out of my thoughts by a knife whizzing by my head.

"You, weird looking elf! Hey, you!" screamed an elf with purple eyes the size of peas and ears as round as oranges.

"My name is Kreacher," I croaked.

"Kreacher, Kreacher! What do we use for weapons?" she asked.

"Knives, guns, magic. Anything sharp and pointy. Anything harmful, deadly," I yelled, grabbing the attention of all the house elves (there must have been fifty) in the room. "Grab forks. Take goblets of poison. Harmful potions. I'm sure there's some Draught of Living Death around her somewhere!"

"Shields, Kreacher, shields!" the house elf names Dobby yelled to me as I made my way to the cabinet of utensils.

"Shields! Grab large bowls, plates, serving platters."

Finally we were armed. Some had handfuls of knives. Others had plates and goblets of liquid. Some had even taken wands from the dormitories they were cleaning. Especially Slytherin. Some even had spoons and forks.

Suddenly, two red headed boys who looked exactly alike, and were surprisingly familiar from 12 Grimmaud place summers ago, ran in.

"Harry has ordered us to send you out of the hidden passageways that exit the school. We're to be guarding them anyway, so…follow us!"

Any other day I would have laughed. Fifty house elves following two red-headed boys who looked exactly alike, all of us armed with magic and sharp, pointy objects.

Finally we reached light. But it wasn't pleasant.

Flashes of green, red, blue, and yellow light zooming this way and that replaced sunlight. Even a house elf could tell that something wasn't right. This wasn't just practice for the Dueling Club. I grabbed the unsuspecting stolen Hufflepuff's wand out of my pocket.

Master Regulus was active in the Dark Arts for a long enough period of time for me to know some Unforgivables.

Us fifty usually useless house elves darted out from all directions. Some of us launched spells. Others apparated onto the Death Eater's heads. Some even gnawed on toes and fingers of enemies to distract them from their opponents.

"_Avada__Kadavra_!" I had forgotten what this spell did, but I was reminded when the Death Eater I aimed it at dropped dead. I ran over and stomped on his nose. "That was for Master Regulus!"

"_Crucio_!" I aimed this one at a woman's figure, who immediately cried out in pain. I ran over to her, grabbed a hold of her ankle, knocked her down, and stomped on her nose, clearly breaking it. "No one shall disgrace Master Regulus or Master Harry ever AGAIN!"

Between the fifty of us, we sure helped a lot. I escaped with only a broken arm, and the other house elves' injuries likewise.

I was running back to the kitchen to get another weapon when I ran into something. Something invisible.

"Kreacher?" it whispered.

"Master Harry? Is that you?"

I felt him reach down and scoop me up in his arms.

"Hey! What are you doing? Put me DOWN!"

"Kreacher! Shut up! They think I'm dead out there!"

"What are you doing? If you're dead, then how am I in your arms?"

"I'm _not_ dead, Kreacher. I'm _pretending_ to be dead."

"Oh, okay. Can you put me down now, dead person?"

"Gladly. You're kind of heavy."

He lowered me to the ground.

"Where are you going? What are you doing?"

"Dead people stuff."

And he walked away.

Someone passed by me, wearing the enemy's mask. I grabbed a sword from the statue and screamed, "FOR MASTER REGULUS!"

As I launched myself into the air to kill him, he grabbed hold of my neck and placed me on the ground. He ripped his mask off. "Kreacher, it's _me_."

"Weasley? _You_? What are you doing in enemy costumes?"

"Enemy stuff. Go away."

"Fine."

Warfare sure was _confusing_.


	14. Luna Lovegood

**Word Count****: 1, 018**

**Letter****: L**

Character: Luna Lovegood

**Other Characters I Considered****: Lucius Malfoy, Lee Jordan, Lily Potter, & Lavender Brown**

**Why I Chose Luna****: In my mind, as I was deciding on a character for L, a little play went on. Lee Jordan was being tortured by Lucius, then he escaped and found Lily and Lavender fighting, only to break it up, and then they insult Luna because finding her strange is the only thing they have in common, and finally she comes in to the room (wherever it happens to be) and asks them where her shoes are, only to find out that they hid them in the Room of Requirement, where all of the lost objects are, and the Vanishing Cabinet and everything, and then I felt bad for her, so I picked Luna. Plus, Crumple-Horned Snorkacks are **_**awesome**_**.  
****Summary****: Luna's inspiration to paint the portraits of Harry, Neville, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione on her ceiling.**

---

"Daddy, my ceiling is _boring_."

He tossed me a basket of paints and brushes.

"Do whatever you like, darling. I'll unpack."

We had just returned from a trip to Sweden, searching for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Daddy sold Harry Potter's story to the _Daily Prophet_, and we came across a good deal of money, so we decided to go on our expedition.

I trudged up the stairs, my suitcase behind me. "It's fine, Daddy. I'll paint tomorrow morning."

It was already eight at night, and by the time we finished unpacking and ate something, the paint wouldn't be dry enough and would probably drip on me while I slept.

I wonder where it would drip. In my hair? Wow! That would be hard to get out. Speaking of showers, I better tell Daddy I need some more shampoo. What if it got in my _mouth_? That would be some serious damage. I better use the non-toxic stuff. St. Mungo's isn't very welcoming to a girl like me.

I unpacked my suitcase one item at a time. All my clothes were placed back in my dresser. I threw all my books back into my school trunk. I put the pictures in the drawer under my bed. I'd scrapbook with them later.

Dinner was a short, quiet one. Daddy was unpacking using magic the whole time, and barely touched his pumpkin juice and sardine stew.

I ran up to my room. After changing into my pajamas and brushing my teeth, I flopped into bed.

That's when the dream came. I was sitting in my room, looking at my ceiling. Plain, blank white, as always. And I was cutting pictures from my Hogwarts yearbook, the ones they gave all the seventh years at graduation. Why I was dreaming of that, I don't know. I was only going into fifth year. And the pictures, all of the ones I was cutting out, were magically stuck to my ceiling. Ones of the brainy Gryffindor Hermione Granger, the Boy Who Lived Harry Potter, the funny-but-cruel Ronald Weasley, and the kind Herbology lover Neville Longbottom.

After watching myself in my sleep, I woke up. Flashbacks came to me. _"The DA- it's almost like having friends, Harry." _

And that's when I knew what I would be painting on my ceiling.

Still in my pajamas, no food in my stomach, my dirty blonde hair a strew, and I probably had bad breath too, I walked to the corner of my room and picked up the box of wizarding paints.

Black, brown, red, gold, peach, silvery-white. I sketched a welcoming picture of a smiling Hermione Granger on the corner of my ceiling. Her backdrop consisted of her Patronus, a gorgeous otter, and the Gryffindor colors in a pretty pattern. Paisleys and stripes. Swirling around in various directions.

I fetched the green paint from the box. Sketching the Boy Who Lived on my ceiling (that sounded strange, what if there was really someone who lived on my ceiling?), I remembered flying on the threstrals and fighting in the Department of Mysteries. Finally a happy Harry Potter, scar and all, stared down at me from the ceiling.

After I sketched the funny-yet-cruel Ronald Weasley next to his best friend, I started to paint him. I saved the hair for last. His hair color, it was unique. After I placed a dollop of brown in the red, to make it look more _natural_, more, more _congenital_. Half way through, I ran out of my color. Almost done, I ran out of red completely.

I dashed downstairs. "Daddy? Daddy?"

He ran over to me from the window. "What is it, Luna?"

"Do you have anymore red? Ronald's hair really used a lot of it."

He tossed me a bottle. I ran back up to my room, ready to finish. Finally, Ron was all done. He smiled down at me, just like Harry.

"Your hair took up all the paint," I told him pointedly.

"That's not nice, Luna. Couldn't you have painted me with _normal_ hair?"

"No, Ron. I want to remember you how you _really_ look."

He scowled.

Neville was last. Ah, Neville. We had even spent a day at Madam Puddifoot's together. I really miss him.

Finally Neville was done. I blew him a kiss.

"Awe, thanks, Luna."

I took the prettiest color from the box. A color that was gold enough for Godric Gryffindor himself, but yellow enough that Helena Hufflepuff would have fawned over it. I also took the Umbugular Slashkilter fur brush. I wanted it to look perfect.

---

"Yes, Luna. I love it."

My father had come up, after I begged and begged him, to see my artwork. That was something I was getting fairly good at- painting.

"Do you?"

"Yes, Luna, darling. The portraits are so lifelike. And the chain connecting them-'friends.' I don't see how they couldn't love it. How I couldn't love it. How anyone except You-Know-Who couldn't think it was sweet."

"Thanks, Daddy."

"No problem, Luna. Now I have to go take a shower."

"Sure."

Before he walked completely out of my room, I caught him.

"Oh, and Dad?"

"Luna?"

"I need some more shampoo."


	15. Moaning Myrtle

_**Word Count**_**: 496**

_**Letter**_**: M**

_**Character**_**: Moaning Myrtle**

_**Others I Considered**_**: Molly Weasley & Minerva McGonagall**

_**Why Is M for Moaning Myrtle?**_** She is the most comical out of the three, and I was more in the mood to write something not serious or sensitive, like Kreacher or Luna's story.**

_**Summary**_**: A conversation between Draco and Myrtle about his plots to kill Dumbledore**

**---**

"Oh! A person!!"

A figure, tall, dark, and pretty handsome if I do say so myself, was leaning over the sink. He looked…sick. Crying, moaning, weeping, complaining.

"Are-are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks."

"I'm Myrtle. You're very welcome."

"Oh, um, I'm Draco."

"I hear some of the girls, the very few who come in hear, mind you, talking about you. 'Oh, did you see Draco today?'"

"Th-that's nice."

"Are you _sure_ you're okay, Draco?"

"N-no. I'm not, Myrtle."

"What's wrong?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Yes, I would. Just because I'm dead doesn't mean that I can't sympathize."

"Fine, Myrtle. Y-you've heard of the Dark Lord, right?"

"Oh, yes. He can be very demanding. Very _violent_."

"How would you know?"

"Well, Lord Voldemort," Draco cringed at the name and wept louder, "better known as Tom Riddle in my time, went to school here. He killed me."

"How could he kill you on school grounds?"

"B-b-basilisk."

He was silent.

"So, your problem, exactly, that you were trying to explain to me is?"

"He has ordered me to kill him."

"Why would he ask you to kill him? That's madness."

"No. Not him. Dumbledore."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"How are you going to do _that_? He's one of the most _powerful_ wizards of all _time_!"

"Well, you've heard of Borgin & Burkes, correct?"

"The Dark Magic Street, right."

"Yeah. Well there's a Vanishing Cabinet there. And-"

"What's a 'Vanishing Cabinet?'"

"I was getting to that. You put something in it, close the door, and it ends up in the other. I've found one here in-"

"Where did you find it?"

"The Room of Requirement."

"Where?"

"The Room of Requirement. It's-"

"What's that?"

He took a deep breath, as if something was angering him. "It's a room. You walk past it and think about something you need, and it shows up. For example, if you really-"

"So if you really had to go to the bathroom, and you were thinking about that, and you passed through that particular corridor, it would appear?"

"Right. And in it-"

"Where is it?"

"Opposite the tapestry of the dancing trolls. But as I was trying to say, there's another one, here at Hogwarts."

"Oh, that's great! Does it work?"

"No, this one's broken."

"Oh."

"And-"

"Can you fix it?"

"Not currently, no."

"Draco?"

"Huh?" He looked up from the spot on the floor he was staring at.

"If he kills you first…"

"You're a bundle of joy, aren't you, Myrtle?"

"Yes, well, you're welcome to share my toilet."


	16. Nymphadora Tonks

**Word Count: 1, 271**

**Letter: N**

**Character: Nymphadora Tonks**

**Other Characters That I Considered: Neville Longbottom, Nearly Headless Nick, Narcissa Malfoy, and Nagini**

**Why Nymphadora Won: She's just the **_**epitome**_** of girl power. Ha ha…**

**Summary: Nymphadora's realization of her change of heart. **

---

Screaming, running, hiding, changing my appearance- none of it would help in this situation.

Black clouds of sorrow, misery, and despair hung over me in the form of a guard. A soul-sucker. A bad memory. A Dementor.

"_I don't _care_!"_

"_You should, Nymphadora."_

"_But I _don't_!"_

"_It's too dangerous. No, and that's my final stand."_

"_Ex-__expecto Patronum_!"

Nothing. No white, fluffy animal. No safety. Still Dementors.

I ran my hand through my mousy brown hair, thinking. Pushing the horrible thoughts aside, that was the key. Filling them with those few, truly heartfelt memories, that was essential.

"_It's not that I don't return your feelings, Dora."_

He _did_ love me. He just cared too much.

"_Expecto Patronum_!"

I closed my eyes, hoping that when I opened them again the Dementors would be gone. I squinted open one eye, then the other, until both my eyes were fully open. Another black cloud hung above me, and it had brought friends.

More happy memories are all I needed. Time and time again I had thought, _this is the best day of my life_. If only the Dementors would allow me to recall them. If only they weren't sucking them out of me.

"_Dora, I'm sorry. I really am. But I just can't do that to you."_

"_Why _not_? I don't _care_, Remus. I've told you a thousand times, I _don't care_."_

"_But someone has to."_

Happy times, at Hogwarts, at 12 Grimmaud Place, and at home- extracting them from my mind was the tricky part, but I had to do it, I had to live this out, otherwise…well, wallowing in self pity wasn't exactly a "me" kind of thing to do. And it'd be absolutely terrible for my reputation as an Auror.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM_!"

In awe, I watched as a blurry white cloud burst from the end of my wand. As it moved closer and closer to the Dementors, farther and farther from me, they retreated, and a feeling of security washed over me.

They were gone. Patronus vs. Dementors. The positive always won. A never-ending positive force cancels out a world of negativity.

As my Patronus started to fade out, I studied it. Long, slender, furry. A werewolf.

But as long as I could remember, my Patronus was _not_ a werewolf.

And as far as I knew, only life-changing emotional events could change your Patronus.

And, obviously, I knew what this meant.

To make sure I wasn't just seeing things, I tried the charm again.

"_Expecto Patronum_!"

Another werewolf.

So, I came to the conclusion that I, Nymphadora Tonks, was in love with a werewolf.

And not just any werewolf- I was in love with Remus Lupin, werewolf extraordinaire (to me, anyways).

Before I could stop myself, a familiar _pop_ took me to 12 Grimmaud Place, where I knew I would find him, diligently working with the Order.

The moment I knocked on the door, Ginny opened it for me.

"Oh, hello, Tonks. Wasn't expecting you here."

"Yes, well…"

"Are you okay?"

"Long story. Most of which includes Dementors. But I'm calling a girls' meeting. Can you grab Hermione and meet me in the Order meeting room?"

"Sure, Tonks. But, why?"

"I'll explain. Just do it."

I made my way through the room, easily avoiding all contact with humans…and half-humans, finally reaching the meeting room. I opened the door, silently, and walked in, being careful not to let my trainers squeak on the polished wood floor.

After a few minutes to gather my thoughts, Ginny led Hermione by the arm to a set of chairs across from me.

Soundlessly, I walked to the head of the room. "_Expecto__Patronum_!"

"W-what is it?" asked Ginny.

"That, my girls, is a-" I started.

"Werewolf. Wow, Tonks, I'm so happy for you," finished Hermione.

"What are you, clairvoyant or something?"

"No, but I'm knowledgeable to know the difference between any average muggle animal and a magical animal, and I'm pretty sure your Patronus just had the distinctive features of a werewolf. Also, I've had the _pleasure_," she smiled sarcastically, "of meeting werewolf Lupin, and, as this Patronus is an _exact_ match, I'd have to conclude, based on the theory that a Patronus can only change at a life scarring experience or memory, that you're in _love_."

"Nothing tops that speech, Hermione," Ginny said, rolling her eyes, "but I'm sure that Tonks wanted advice, rather than your rambling knowledge."

Hermione stared blankly at Ginny. "Is that true, Tonks?"

"Yes, actually. I've come to ask two teenage witches about how to persuade a werewolf, as ridiculous as that sounds."

"That's Ginny's department," stated Hermione matter-of-factly.

I turned to stare at the red-haired girl. Petite yet beautiful, she nervously stared towards her feet, as if studying the appearance of new shoes.

"Well?"

"I have absolutely no experience in the department of mythical creatures, but," she paused, finally staring into my eyes, "if you want him to change his mind, whatever he may be decided on-"

"He says that 'the fact he returns my feelings is irrelevant' and that he 'refuses to endanger my life like that.'"

"Oh, this may be harder than I thought."

"Why don't you tell him that you don't care about his werewolf status, use Fleur and Bill as an example even, and then if he still objects, you can say that if he accidentally hurts you, and you become full of half werewolf, that even then you'll be happy."

"That's a lot easier said than done, my young grasshopper."

"Last time I checked, I was the one teaching you, my young grasshopper."

I laughed. "Okay, enough with the noisy muggle insects. Is that seriously all I can do?"

"All I can think of."

"Will you guys stand outside the door and help me?"

"I'll be more help than poor Hermione over here, but why not."

"Thanks, I really do owe you one."

"Yes, yes you do, Nymphadora."

"On second thought…"

"I mean Tonks."

"That's better."

"Shall we go get him?"

"No, no. It'll be too…_suspicious_."

"What if we got Harry to do it?"

"How would you do that?"

"He's in _love_ with Ginny," perked up Hermione.

"No, he's not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is _not_!"

"Is _too_!"

"ENOUGH!"

"Sorry, Tonks," they said simultaneously.

As they walked out of the room to fetch the Remus-fetcher, I plopped into a soft chair at the head of the room.

Moments later, Harry returned with Remus, and a silky sheet hidden behind his back. I looked at him questioningly. In response, he winked and gestured to Hermione and Ginny, standing out of Remus's view behind him. I watched as he handed them the cloak and left with a, "I'll…leave you two alone."

"Nymphadora," started Remus.

I took a deep breath in, and exhaled slowly.

"Sorry then, Dora," he continued, pulling a small box out of his disheveled coat pocket.

"What did those kids say to you, Remus?"

"They told me some things I should've heard a long time ago."

"Just give me that ring, silly!"

He laughed and placed an antique ring on my finger.

As he wrapped his arms around me, he chuckled.

"What?"

"You're hair is pink."

---

**Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. I've had a busy week or so, and I really had no time at **_**all**_** to write. Hope it was worth it!! R&R appreciated.**


	17. Mr Ollivander

**Word Count: 988**

**Letter: O**

**Character: Mr. Ollivander**

**Summary: Mr. Ollivander gets an unwelcome surprise in his wand shop one day long after closing.**

**---**

I jumped out of my bed grabbed my dressing robe, determined on finding the source of sound. Casting a silencing charm on the stairs around me so they wouldn't creak, I headed downstairs to my store, hoping desperately to catch the thief in action.

As soon as I reached the bottom of the staircase, I gasped.

But with the sight before me, anyone would have to try hard not to. My store was ruined. Absolutely ruined. Boxes of valuable wands torn apart, shelves askew, the front desk broken, the safe destroyed, and what's worse, empty.

And what's even worse than that? An older version of Tom Riddle was standing in the shadows of my store, waiting for the perfect time to announce his presence.

As he arrogantly emerged from the shadows, I took in his new appearance. His previously brown eyes were now a shocking red; his light skin taking on a white form, and his full head of dark brown hair had now taken the façade of baldness. It was, at the least, startling.

"Ollivander."

"Tom."

It seems that was the wrong thing to say, as he screamed in rage, "DO NOT CALL ME THAT!"

Thinking back on it, I now realize that the creature known to be in his late 60's, or early 70's, sounded very childish. But in that moment, I was extremely frightened.

"Yes, yes…s-s-sir."

"Now, Ollivander, tell me what you know about my wand."

"Of course, s-s-sir. I-it was," I gulped a breath of air in, and tried to regain my confidence. Wands were what I knew, what I knew best, over everyone else in Diagon Alley, I knew wands best. I continued, "I-it was, w-was a 13 ½ inch wand, I-if I remember correctly. And it was h-h-hawthorn -no yew. It was definitely yew, s-sir. And phoenix feather."

"Repeat that in terms understandable to mankind."

"It was 13 ½ inches, made of yew, with a phoenix feather core, and, sir, if I'm not mistaken, still is."

"Right, now, does my wand have anything in common with a certain Harry Potter's?"

His calmness was inevitably manipulative, and I'm sure that my voice shook when I spoke, "His was most definitely holly, 11 inches long, and a phoenix feather core from- oh dear."

I knew I shouldn't have expressed my shock to such a dangerous person, but I did anyway, out of pure panic.

You, see, Harry Potter's wand and You-Know-Who's wand were both made from Albus Dumbledore's phoenix's, Fawkes', feathers. This could spark a reaction, as the cores of the wands are identical.

"What, Ollivander?"

"The-the cores of the wands match perfectly. Made from the same phoenix. Why do you ask?"

"I was about to kill him, and had just launched the curse, when he tried to disarm me and the light beams merged, taking one by one the people I've _killed_ out of my wand in a ghostly form."

"That is explainable. Your wands have the same magical core."

"And how exactly do I fix that?"

"Perhaps another wand?"

"How about an _unbeatable_ wand?"

I looked at him quizzically.

"What exactly do you know about the Elder Wand?"

"W-what?"

"The Elder Wand."

"Oh. N-no one knows the current master, sir."

"I DIDN'T ASK WHO HAD IT! I ASKED YOU WHAT YOU KNEW ABOUT IT!"

"My apologies, s-sir."

Fear shook through me as I realized who was rumored to actually have this particular wand. _Poor old man_, I thought, though he was only mere years over me. But it was my life on the line, and it was now or never to prove I deserved to live.

"It's a Deathly Hallow. Rumored to be unbeatable, as you must know. Also called the Deathstick or the Wand of Destiny. Reuniting it with the Resurrection Stone and the Cloak of Invisibility will make you the Master of Death. It's able to perform magical feats that under normal circumstances would be ruled impossible."

"Ah."

An awkward silence came to play, in which I hoped desperately he would not ask me who had it.

"Who has it now?"

"W-w-well, there are many rumors, but after Grindelwald, no one is really s-s-sure. I m-mean there are most definitely r-r-rumors, one of which is t-t-true, b-but no one kn-n-nows for s-sure, s-s-"

"I know you know. Who has it?"

"A-albus Dumbledore, s-sir."

"And what can you tell me about a certain person's friends' wands?"

"Whose would you like to know about, sir?"

"A Longbottom fellow, a bushy-haired mudblood named Granger, and a red-haired blood traitor called Weasley."

"Ah, yes. Neville Longbottom came in with his grandmother, purchased a wand of cherry, just recently. It was 13 inches with a core of the finest unicorn hair, a new unicorn, sir, so there will be no connection between said wand and a wand of any of your followers.

"Little Hermione Granger, her wand was a particularly valuable, but chose the spunky witch none the less. Made of vine, if I'm not mistaken, precisely 10 ¾ inches in length, and made of a core of the finest dragon heartstring.

"Ronald Weasley, oh, his father purchased him a wand, with his _Daily Prophet_ winnings, it was quite different from Charlie's, but none the less was perfect for him. Willow, sir, and 14 inches, with unicorn hair for a core, just like his brother's."

"Yes, and there won't be any more of this 'special connection' hubbub, will there, Ollivander?"

"Only your wand and Mr. Potter's will, if casting a spell at the same time. I suggest another wand, maybe, sir? Perhaps this ash wand, of particularly special unicorn hair, and it is about 13 ¼ inches, sir? Or maybe-"

"ENOUGH!"

"Sorry, sir."

"You are worth nothing to me now. Good bye, Ollivander."

It was the last thing I heard.


	18. Professor Pomona Sprout

**Word Count: 1, 287**

**Letter: P**

**Character: Professor Pomona Sprout**

**Summary: There is a lot of mischief going on in the back of Pomona Sprout's Herbology class, some of which she sees, but doesn't want to see, and others which she is oblivious to, but would probably have liked to know about.**

"Good morning, class."

"Good morning, Professor."

Pomona Sprout, head of Hufflepuff house and Herbology teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, walked into her classroom, which was surprisingly quiet and behaved, and greeted them. Every student greeted her back and smiled innocently.

In the back of her classroom sat six students from Gryffindor and Slytherin. Unfortunately for her, Professor Sprout was clueless to the nuisance that Harry, Ron, Draco, Blaise, Hermione, and Neville would create in her lesson today.

"Alright, partner up!"

Immediately, Harry grabbed Ron's arm. Blaise, in the mood for tormenting, tapped Neville on the shoulder. Reluctantly, and for fear of his life, Neville nodded. Looking around, Hermione realized that there was no one else left to partner up with. Draco, smugly, tapped her on the shoulder and smirked.

"Partner, Granger?"

Hermione glared back at him.

"Considering there is no one else left, I suppose that I'll take that as a 'yes.'"

Pomona walked to the front of the classroom and tapped the blackboard with her wand. At her command, "The Magical Properties of Muggle Plants and Herbs in Potions" appeared.

Almost instantly, Neville, seeing "potions" and panicking, raised his hand.

"Professor Sprout! Professor Sprout! This _is _Herbology, am I right?"

Pomona rolled her eyes and nodded, not clear on where this conversation would lead.

"Yes, Neville, this is Herbology."

"Then why are we studying bloody potions!"

"I was getting around to explaining that to the class, Neville. Nonetheless, Professor Snape and I have decided to work together and have our classes do a project. In my class, you will be learning about muggle herbs and plants and their properties that affect us in the magical world, and in Professor Snape's class, you will be applying what you have learned to create a potion that substitutes muggle plants in place of magical plants but has the same outcome on the user.

"That leads us to my lesson today- common muggle plants. These are plants that you would be able to find at almost every muggle location, from flower shops to front lawns to gardens to grocery stores. This is important because if you are ever put into a situation where you need to brew a potion but are not near your wand or are not able to get a hold of the magical supplies you need, you can stop by a muggle shop and pick up ingredients that, alone or combined, have the same affect as a potion or spell on magical beings.

"Today, we will be- oh!" Pomona let out a little gasp of surprise at her forgetfulness, "I almost forgot. Because this assignment is rather difficult for witches and wizards at your skill level, you will be working in groups of six, or three sets of already-established partners, to complete the project. Please stand."

With a flick of her wand, Pomona slid the tables and chairs so that there was one table to every six chairs, and waved her hand as to say, "Situate yourselves."

Ron and Harry immediately grabbed Hermione, and Blaise grabbed Draco. Neville went to stand with Harry and Ron and they all took seats, Hermione next to Draco, Draco next to Blaise, Blaise next to Harry, Harry next to Ron, and Ron next to Neville, who was next to Hermione.

"Although this is not the most suitable arrangement for everyone," Harry paused and looked pitifully at Hermione, "I believe that we will all make a decent enough team to get a high-passing grade here. We have to, unfortunately, work together. So let's all suck it up and finish this."

Pomona decided that now was a good time to start her lesson, because she only had twenty minutes left in her teaching period. She wanted to give everyone enough time to get started on the project in the end, so she went with the quicker solution and grabbed her wand again. Tapping the board, she said, "Copy these notes into your Herbology notebooks and start to brainstorm ideas for the projects within your groups."

There was a brief rustling as the students took out their paper and quills and began copying.

This was when it all began- Pomona's twenty minutes of complete and utter mayhem.

Instead of copying the notes, Draco took out his wand, made a rotating motion around the notes, mumbled a spell, and tapped his parchment. The notes appeared. Hermione, watching it all, was astounded.

"How did you do that?" she whispered quickly.

"Well, I would share it with you, perhaps, if you weren't a mudblood."

_Slap!_

"What was that for?"

"For calling me a mudblood!"

"Ah, but you are, love."

_Slap!_

"Why?"

"Love?"

"Mmhmmm."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

_Slap!_

"What in the name of bloody-"

"For being difficult!"

"I'm not being-"

"Yes, you are!"

Draco leaned over and nudged Blaise. He whispered, "Granger's being feisty."

Blaise replied, smirking, "What else would you expect?"

"Nothing less. However, this is no laughing matter. She's slapping the living daylights out of my precious face!"

Ron, overhearing the two friends' banter, patted Hermione on the back. "Good job, 'Mione. I always knew you would win over him in the end."

Hermione smiled back at him, but her smile quickly turned into a grimace as Draco grabbed onto her hair, tied back into a tight ponytail, and yanked. _Hard_.

"OUCH, Draco. _OUCH!_"

"That's what you get for slapping me."

_Slap!_

"Oh, it's on."

Draco yanked again, and again, and again. Every yank was followed by a precise _slap!_ All of which landed accurately on Draco's cheek.

"Hold her down, would you, Zabini?"

As Blaise got up to hold Hermione's hands away from Draco's face, Harry and Neville caught sight of what was going on. Neville detached Draco's hand from Hermione's ponytail and Harry lifted Hermione into his seat, taking her original place next to Draco.

Pomona, oblivious to the entire scene, continued grading papers.

"Now," started Harry, "Any ideas for the project?"

Hermione spoke up immediately, "I was thinking something simple, so that the ingredients are easy to convert and there is a lesser chance of making a major mistake, but useful and quick-brewing, so we prove that it's practical and so that we have enough time to complete it before the project is due. My first thought was the Polyjuice potion, but that is _very_ complex and takes _forever_, so I, personally, think we should do the-"

"Vitamix potion," completed Hermione and Draco simultaneously.

Ron, stupidly, asked, "Care to explain what that does?"

Draco smirked and rolled his eyes, saying, "Weasley, seriously? You can't tell me you've never used it!"

Ignoring him, Hermione explained, "The Vitamix potion is a very simple potion, but many witches and wizards find it very useful because the drinker receives a sudden but temporary boost of energy. It might come in very handy when one is tired or exhausted, maybe wounded or just simply at a loss for the amount of energy necessary for a task."

Still clueless and confused, Ron said, "Oh."

Harry explained on simpler terms, "It's an energy drink."

"Okay."

"So, are we all agreed on the Vitamix potion?"

There were a few shrugs and mumbled "yeses."

Hermione kicked into action. "Alright, what is the muggle equivalent to wormwood?"

She began rustling through her notes, and Draco pulled on the piece of paper she was holding, tearing it in half.

This did interrupt Pomona, and she walked over. "Draco, I insist that you copy that section of the notes over for Miss Granger."

"Fine." He replied and did his copying spell on a new piece of parchment.

"Mr. Malfoy, that spell is forbidden in my classroom!"

"Your point?"

"Fifty points off Slytherin! And two weeks' detention with myself, starting tonight at eight o'clock sharp. If you're late, you'll have another week's detention with Mr. Filch."

And then, the bell rang.

_Finally_, thought Pomona.

And her next class of students filed in.


	19. Quirinus Quirrell

**Word Count: 615**

**Letter: Q**

**Character: Quirinus Quirrell**

**Summary: Quirinus is accepted as the DADA teacher at Hogwarts during the 1991-1992 school year. Looking for experience he travels around the world, instead finding an evil master who shares his body and forces him to murder a particularly popular young first year. **

Power.

That's all I felt, all, it seems, I've ever felt.

As a child, I was tormented and teased for being the smart one, the one interested in muggle studies, the one who studied in his spare time for fear of failure, or rather, on a quest for power.

And it feels as if I've always had the power that is flowing within my veins somewhere inside of me for all of my life. But now, this power is my being, my life, my spirit, my soul, and my very essence.

Only a few hours before, I was a mere mortal. I was completely human, completely powerless, trying to learn defense against "dark magic" to teach to silly children.

And then, I saw _him_. Or, at the time, _he_ was an _it_. _He_, my master, called to me with his ghostly presence and asked who I was and what I was doing here.

I replied saying that my name was Quirinus Quirrell, and that I was doing research to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts.

And the spirit questioned my wording. "Defense?" it asked, "Why would you need defense against these 'dark arts?' Just join them, Quirinus."

At first, I must say, I was appalled at the idea. Joining forces with evil, with killers, murderers, and worshippers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was the last thing I thought I would ever do.

Looking back on it, I laugh. I smile, thinking about how doubtlessly _stupid_ I was.

So I replied to my company with a few words questioning words. "Why would I join evil?"

I received an answering question. "What have you always wanted, Quirinus? Deep down, you've always wanted, always needed, always craved something, but you have never gotten it. Tell me what you have always desired, Quirinus Quirrell, and it shall be yours."

The response was almost automatic and involuntary. My tone was almost a whisper. "Power."

And that's when it all began.

It's as if this creature, my master, had read my mind. He promised me power, and that's what I got. He promised me glory, and I received nothing less.

He attached himself to me, oozing and dripping with pure power.

And from then on, I _was_ power. If you looked it up in a muggle dictionary, you'd see my picture.

No, but seriously, the power was pulsating inside of me, waiting to be used, bursting with excitement for an escape. And the power felt natural, like it was always intended to be mine, to be somewhere inside my body, to be shared among my essence and the essence of my master.

My master gave me very clear instructions. _Give me the Philosopher's Stone_. _Together, all will worship us. I promise you this, Quirinus, if you promise to get me that stone._

I had no idea what the stone would do for me, my master, or anyone, for that matter, but I had no intention of finding out ahead of time. Of course, I was also unsure of whether or not I was supposed to find out.

Because my master _was_ part of me, I followed his orders strictly. We lived symbiotically; we shared a mutualistic relationship. What one needed, the other provided. And finally, I had a plan to get the stone. I would please my master, and glory would be ours.

But then, I got another order.

_Kill Harry Potter._


	20. Rita Skeeter

**Word Count: 973**

**Letter: R**

**Character: Rita Skeeter**

**Summary: Rita finds out that she can turn into a beetle, and makes her decision to keep it a secret and remain unregistered.**

***This is by far probably my worst chapter yet, but I didn't want to stick to Ron, so I went with Rita, and ran out of ideas, so I made up a story line and stumbled along with it.**

****I have no idea if Rita went to Hogwarts, what house she was in, or when she became an Animagus. Also, two of the characters are my own- you will most definitely recognize the true names from the made up ones. Most of this information is made up for the sake of the story, hence the name "fan **_**fiction**_**." **

I was only fifteen years old, a fifth year at Hogwarts. I was never the most popular; rather, I fit in with my friends at a level somewhere in the middle on the popularity scale, far below the rich and snobby purebloods but somewhere above the muggle-born nerds.

I was frequently described as a gossipy girl, a stereotypical teenage witch, with long, bone-straight white-blonde hair that came down to my elbows. I had pale skin, deep blue eyes, and a slim figure that a few other girls were envious of.

I was sitting in my dormitory, on my bed, which I had covered in a new purple and orange quilt, talking to my close friends in my house, Hufflepuff.

Dolores Umbridge, a slightly chunky girl who was about a year older than me, was sitting in her beanbag chair across from me. Dolores had lovely brown hair, with luscious bouncy curls. She always kept it cropped short, because her mother told her that it flattered her face more that way. Personally, I believed that Dolores had great hair, and that if she let it grow long, she would stop being teased because the amazing-ness of her hair would take any emphasis off of her figure. She had pale skin and light blue eyes. Dolores had only a few friends, including myself and the other girls we hung out with. She always said she needed nothing more than good friends, loving family, a job, and her cat, Jinx.

Another of the girls we were close with was Carla Graham. Carla was a thin girl with an athletic build- she _was_ on the Quidditch team, after all. She had caramel-colored skin and dark black, wavy hair that came down to her shoulders. She kept it short for sake of ease when she was running and flying. Her Hispanic heritage gave her deep chocolate brown eyes and white, straight teeth. She was envied by many girls in our year and looked up to by younger ones. She was _very_ tall. She was a genuine person, but could be very mean when she needed to be.

The last girl that we really valued was Bridgett Fisher. Bridgett was a pale girl from New York, who moved here with her family to attend school at Hogwarts. She had black hair and green eyes, a slim figure and crooked teeth dotted with braces. She was not the first person anyone would look at and say, "Oh, yeah, Bridgett, she's cool." She was a bit stuck up and extremely outgoing. Not liked by many, she was considered a bully, but around us, she opened up and remained nice. We knew Bridgett as the one we really could depend on to stand up for what any of us thought was right, as long as she agreed with us.

As I said, we were all sitting around, me on my bed, Dolores in her beanbag chair, and Carla sharing her loveseat with Bridgett. We were quizzing each other on the Animagus notes, because Professor McGonagall was giving us a test tomorrow.

"Hey," said Bridgett, "Do you know what would be the _best_ way to understand this stuff?"

We all shrugged.

"If we tried to actually be an Animagus. Like, transform."

Now, we all vetoed this idea, but I was really interested. So later on, once everyone was asleep, I ran into the bathroom with my textbook and locked the door. I read the section on transforming into an Animagus over:

"Becoming an Animagus is a long and brutal process; backfire is a strong option. An Animagus can transform into an animal reflecting the person's true inner nature with or without a wand. Life span of an Animagus is the same as the life span of a human. Animagi think as their human equivalents. The transformation, once learned, is voluntary."

Nothing. No hints, no method to transform, nothing.

_Well_, I thought, _here goes nothing_. I pushed. I became animal-like, imagining myself as a smaller version, shrinking inside. Nothing.

Every night until the end of sixth year, I pushed. I tried. I attempted my Animagus form again and again. Still nothing.

The last night, I was almost out of hope. I had gotten Bridgett to retrieve for me a small flask of Felix Felicis from Professor Slughorn's secret stash, claiming it was for the first of the O.W.L's tomorrow. I would, of course, save some so that she wouldn't be suspicious. But my real purpose was to use it to see if I could finally transform.

So, I took a sip. It felt great, of course, but I kept on task.

I bounced to the bathroom, receiving many odd looks, and closed my eyes, focusing. I pushed, trying to transform. I felt myself shrink, and thought, _finally._ I continued to shrink. Smaller, and smaller, I grew until finally, I began wondering what I truly was.

_A butterfly, maybe_, I thought_, a moth, perhaps_.

So, finally, I was done shrinking, and I climbed my small body up the side of the vanity to the mirror.

If I could have, I would have screamed.

I was a beetle.

_I_, Rita Skeeter, was an Animagus. A_ beetle_.

I then attempted to transform back. I grew, and grew, and grew, until finally I reached normal size again.

Apparently, I should have crawled back down the vanity, because I was now stuck in the sink.

As I pried myself out of the sink, I felt something in my gut.

I knew that I had to keep this a secret. I had to remain unregistered. For the sake of my life, my future, my career.

I knew what was at risk- Azkaban. But I knew I had to stay cautious, and I decided that I would tell no one.

Not my family, not my friends, not my teachers.

_No one_.


	21. Author's Note & Poll

**A/N: **

**Okay, I have an author's note crammed in here for a variety of reasons, and, no, it's not because I hate you.**

**First off, I have just gotten back into this story now and am really appreciative of all of your kind reviews and advice. The feedback from all of you is so great and encouraging.**

**Also, I am a wee bit stuck here. I only have S, T, U, V, W, X, Y, and Z left. Some of these letters are difficult to come up with. So, if anyone has any suggestions, review this author's note with them because I currently have my PM turned off.**

**I just recently created a poll that can be found on my profile page. After you read the story, **_**PLEASE**_**go to my profile and answer the question asking about your favorite chapter. It's listed by name, so make sure you know that. I am only asking you to answer so I know what you guys liked so I can make the last 8 chapters the best ones yet. I had them in alphabetical order, but the computer shuffled them around, so sorry about that.**

**Also, if you do not have an account, please review anonymously telling me your favorite and **_**why **_**you like it. If you are planning on voting in the poll and **_**do**_** have an account but would also like to review this chapter and tell me **_**why**_** you chose it as your favorite, that would be appreciated **_**SO**_**much!**

**Lastly, the only vote in the poll right now is for Dobby, and that is mine, because I had the most fun writing that one. Don't let that bias your own opinion; instead, go with the one that had you laughing the most or that really sucked you into the story.**

_**I thank all of you so much. I appreciate all the reviews, favorites, and alerts that you've added for me and all of my stories. The poll is only my way of finding out how you like the story so I can make the rest of it go that way also.**_


	22. Severus Snape

**Brief Author's Note: I couldn't decided! S is such a popular letter in JK Rowling's books, so I am doing three chapters. As promised, you are getting another two Marauder's fics. Because this is a one shot, the previous chapter I wrote on James Potter I is irrelevant, so Severus is still allowed to be tortured.**

_Word Count: 811_

_Letter: S_

_Character: Severus Snape_

_Summary: Severus is tortured again. The Marauder's leave behind an important object, however, and Severus plots his revenge on them once and for all._

_Blasted James Potter and his hooligan friends_, I thought, as I was once more hanging upside down, at mercy of Peter's wand.

James, Sirius, and Remus were standing beside him, laughing their bloated heads off, their egos as large as ever, maybe even larger.

Oh, I hated them. Loathed them, more than they loathed me. For what reason, I had no idea. I had nothing they would ever want, nothing they would ever find useful. Sure, I was a wiz with potions and was relatively intelligent, doubtlessly in the top ten percent of my year.

But they all had everything they could ever want, everything _I_ could ever want. James had brains, was amazing on the Quidditch field, and had a beautiful girlfriend- my former best friend, Lily Evans. Sirius was a great Quidditch player, quite good at sneaking around, and made up for his lack of brains with his charm for the ladies. Remus, despite his enormous obsession with werewolves, was a very smart lad also. He was probably the nicest of the four, and tortured me the least, giving me sympathetic glances every now and then, knowing that at any moment, this could be him. But instead of doing anything, he stood around and chuckled. Peter, he was an odd fellow. He didn't have much of anything, really, except skill with torturous curses. That, I knew firsthand.

Finally, Peter let me fall to the ground, and with an _oof_ I collected my things and got up. I looked up to see them strolling away, laughing about some private joke that probably had something to do with me.

I was about to walk after them into the school, when I tripped. Surprisingly, I did not trip over my own feet this time, mind you. I looked down to find an old piece of parchment on the ground, with a torn piece of new lined parchment rolled up inside of it. I picked it up, contemplating whether or not to return it to them.

Against my better judgment and ignoring the nagging voice in my head that sounded oddly similar to my mother's, I slid the scroll-like paper into the pocket of my robes with my wand and followed the crowd into the school.

Later on that evening, while the rest of my house was at dinner, I took the parchment from my robes and unrolled it.

Stupid children that they were, the smaller piece of torn parchment said:

"_To view map: I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. To close map: Mischief managed."_

I tapped the larger piece and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

A detailed map of Hogwarts, complete with moving people and secret passageways, appeared. _I didn't think they were capable of this_, I thought.

And then, another thought hit me. _Revenge is mine_.

I immediately began plotting, creating spells, curses, and counter-curses, brewing potions, and consulting the map. By the time everyone was filing in from dinner, which I skipped, as per usual, I had already closed the map, saying, "Mischief managed" and was plopped on my cot, scribbling notes in my potions book.

The next day, I rolled the two pieces of parchment inside each other and tied them with a green and silver ribbon, slipping the package into my pocket gently and reviewing my plan in my head.

After the first of our classes, the student body was heading to lunch. I waited in the corridors for the "marauders" and found them late, goofing off as always.

"Missing something?"

Sirius turned and gasped. "The map!"

Catching him off guard, I launched my first attack. "_Langlock_!"

Remus stepped forward, but not knowing the counter-attack, he was helpless and simply stood there, stuttering.

I took this moment to attack again. "_Levicorpus_!"

And before either of the others could block it, I acted. "_Langlock! Langlock!"_

"Levicorpus! Levicorpus! Levicorpus!"

The remaining three were hoisted into the air.

I heard footsteps, and, prepared, yelled, "_Muffliato!"_

The professor turned the corner, not hearing a thing. The only one who could yell was Remus, and none of them were standing. I allowed Remus to speak in honor of the group, as he I considered the least obnoxious.

"Do I have something you want?"

"Yes. The map."

"I'm not sure if I should give it to you."

"Snape! Hand over that map!"

"Why should I?"

"We worked hard on that!"

"What will I get in return?"

He looked around at the others, who nodded awkwardly from their upside-down hanging position.

"We'll stop tormenting you."

"Forever."

"For…two months."

"For the rest of our time at Hogwarts."

"For…three months."

"For two years."

"For two and a half years." He smiled mischievously.

"For the rest of this year," I said without thinking.

"Deal."

"Oh, c'mon."

I handed them the map and we all walked into Great Hall.


	23. Sirius Black

_Word Count:650_

_Letter: S_

_Character: Sirius Black_

_Summary: Sirius takes his DADA O.W.L. 'Nough said._

"But I'm so tired, Moony!"

"Get out of bed, you lazy oaf! Our first exam is at eight and it's already quarter of!"

Yawning, I sat up and rubbed my eyes. I looked at Moony, who was already dressed, hair brushed, shirt tucked in, tie tied…classic him. Peter was cramming last minute, and James was quizzing Lily in the common room, according to Remus.

He rummaged through my trunk until he found a uniform that was suitably clean and smelled relatively decent, and tossed it at me. He grabbed my comb off my dresser and stuck it in my unruly mess of curly hair, smeared toothpaste on my toothbrush and shoved it in my mouth, and dragged me by my pajamas into the bathroom, commanding me to "make myself look decent…quickly."

Now, I don't mean to brag or anything, but I must say that I was the master of making myself look great in a short amount of time. Heck, I could've written a book about it- "Fantastic Face in Five Minutes or Less." So, I did as Remus said and met him out in the common room with James and Peter.

As we were walking to the Great Hall, I drilled Remus again. "So, what exam are we taking?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Written first?"

"Written first."

"Think you'll pass?"

"Think _you'll_ pass?"

"Please, Moony. I _am_ Sirius Black."

"Of course you are."

"Of course I am."

We took our seats and listened to this fat, old woman talk about rules. "Welcome to your first exam in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Great Hall." _Yeah, lady, we've been going here for five years._ "Today you'll be taking your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L." _No, really?_ _I would never have guessed that._ _It doesn't say it on the test booklet or anything._

She held up her copy. "Please turn to page three. The page number is found in the lower center of the page." _We're not four._ "This is where you'll start the exam. Please note that there is zero tolerance for cheaters." _Are we going to have to listen to this for all the exams?_ "There are five types of questions, matching, true or false, multiple choice, completion, and essay. The individual instructions for each question are found in italics below the section number. If you have any additional questions, I'll be here all period. You may begin." _Finally._

Section 1: True or False

_Circle true or false next to the question after reading it_.

True/False - Dementors feed on positive energy.

Wow, this is going to be so very easy.

After completing my exam, checking it twice, and turning it in (before Moony, mind you), I slept. I slept and dreamt of happy bunnies and rainbows and pretty girls. Mostly pretty girls, with pet bunnies that had toys shaped like rainbows.

Apparently, the exam didn't take that long, because about five minutes later, Prongs and Moony were shaking me to wake me up.

I woke up easily this time, thoroughly rested.

"Sleep well?" asked James.

"Yes, thank you. Did you like question ten, Moony?"

"Loved it. 'Give five signs that identify the werewolf.' Excellent question."

James joked, "D'you think you managed to get all the signs?"

"I dunno. Do you?"

"Maybe. One, he's sitting next to me. Two, he's in my year. Three, he's in Gryffindor. Four, he's my best friend. Five, his name is Remus Lupin…"

"I thought I was your best friend!" I yelled.

"I have no best friends, Sirius." Said James.

"Oh, alright then."

We laughed.

SUMMER BREAK

I opened my O.W.L. results and read. My mother snatched them from my hands.

"_Defense_ Against the Dark Arts? An 'o' stands for what, Sirius?"

"Outstanding."

"What is considered 'dark?'"

"Anything You-Know-Who."

"You're grounded for two weeks."

"For?"

"Back talking me right now. To your room. Go!"

So much for studying, Remus.

**Sorry, this one sucks. It's not very good. I lost the direction I was going in with my excitement for the next chapter. Haha, hope you thought it was decent enough to keep reading.**


	24. The Sorting Hat

**And now for my favorite of the "S" chapters!**

_Word Count:457_

_Letter: S_

_Character: Sorting Hat_

_Why I Chose The Sorting Hat: I was in a song-writing mood!_

_Summary: The Sorting Hat sorts Albus Severus._

"Godric Gryffindor wanted the brave at heart. His house is for those who evil can't outsmart. If this describes you than listen closely my dears,

_I choose the beginning of your magical careers._

"_Helga Hufflepuff wanted the loyal friends_

_Who'd stick with each other when to others the evil rends._

_You be the judge- if to this you qualify,_

_I may consider you here, now you know why. _

"_Rowena Ravenclaw needed those with quick wit._

_She believed that was the only way the school would benefit._

_So, all of you smart witches and wizards here today,_

_This house may be for you; put your fears away._

"_Salazar Slytherin appreciated those pure in blood._

_These cunning folks use trickery to make their glory flood._

_I see many of you smiling from your seats in this Great Hall._

_I warn you that some may not belong here- accept what will befall._

"_Tug me on over your head._

_Clear your mind of fear and dread._

_The only words I'll share aloud_

_Will be accepted strong and proud."_

Headmaster McGonagall stood and introduced the Heads of Houses to the new first years. "The Gryffindor Head of House is Professor Longbottom. For Hufflepuff, we have Professor Macmillan. Professor Lovegood is the head of Ravenclaw. Slytherin Head of House is Professor Zabini."

At that, Professor Longbottom, the head professor, began reading from a scroll of names.

"Andrew, Heather."

The young girl sat on the stool and pulled me on her head. After brief consideration, I yelled, "RAVENCLAW!"

"Butler, Samuel."

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Driver, Bartholomew."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Fisher, Sara."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Granger, Lee."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Henderson, Bridgett."

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Lender, Mia."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Malfoy, Scorpius."

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Newton, Tia."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Newton, Timothy."

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Potter, Albus."

A young boy, resembling closely to his father, got up and stumbled nervously to the stool, taking me gently in his arms and plopping me on his head. The moment my brim touched his messy black hair, I was bombarded with his mental chanting. _Gryffindor, not Hufflepuff, not Slytherin, not Ravenclaw. Gryffindor, not Hufflepuff, not Slytherin, not Ravenclaw. _

I whispered to him, "But, Al, you'd do great in any of those houses. You're a loyal fellow, a mischievous fellow, an intelligent fellow. Brave, well, of course. Can I ask you something, Al?"

The boy stopped his absurd chanting in order to say, "Sure."

"What makes you want Gryffindor so badly?"

"Family thing."

"Oh, but there's something more here. You don't want to be put with people like You-Know-Who, right?"

"Right."

"I wouldn't have considered you in Slytherin for a minute. Not Hufflepuff, either. Ravenclaw, however…"

He began to chant again.

"Calm down, lad. I'm only kidding. The moment I touched your skull, I was overcrowded by courage."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

And then, Albus Severus Potter leapt up and danced.


	25. Teddy Lupin

A/N: Thanks for those of you who did decided to vote—you brought the count up from 1 to 3! Because I saw that someone liked Pomona's and Luna's, I got a new idea for T. I did change it because someone pointed out to me that Teddy and James seemed the same age, which they're not. (Teddy was born in April of 1998, during the war, and James was born sometime between 2002 and 2005, making the age difference a minimum of 4 years, a maximum of 7.)

_Word Count: 1, 470_

_Letter: T_

_Character: Teddy Lupin_

_Others I Considered: Tom Riddle_

_Why I Chose Teddy: I thought I could write a chapter similar to Pomona's and to Luna's with the next generation of wizards._

_Summary: Teddy, Rose, Hugo, James, Albus, and Lily are playing at the Ministry of Magic while Harry, Ron, and Hermione work and Ginny gets an interview from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on the incarceration of Dolores Umbridge for the mistreatment of muggles. Andromeda was off on a much-needed vacation, and Harry and Ginny had volunteered to watch Teddy for the week._

"No playing in the fountain," instructed Hermione, "And no bothering Kingsley in his office."

"Stick to the first floor unless you need one of us," requested Harry.

"We'll see you all at lunch time. Meet us by the fireplace at about noon, then we'll floo to get a bite to eat," informed Ginny.

"And Harry and I will be on level two, but if you need to get to us just ask Shacklebolt's Junior Assistant and he'll phone us- Harry's secretary will likely pick up, so just ask her to fetch him. Tell her you're his family," said Ron.

"I'll be floating around," said Ginny, "But if you need me you can always get the Minister's Junior Assistant again and call my cell."

"I have to speak at a trial today," said Hermione, "And you all know level 10 is off limits, even to phones, unless you're involved in the trial. So try to get a hold of the others first, before you interrupt the Wizengamot."

Harry ruffled Teddy's turquoise hair. "It's up to you to keep these kids in line while we're gone," he said, "Think you can handle it?"

I just nodded, taking everything in.

Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione walked away, off to their separate offices.

As soon as the adults were out of sight and out of earshot, James began giving orders, as if he were a drill sergeant. He sounded like he'd done it before, almost as if this was a regular thing for them to do while their parents were working. I wondered whether or not his parents knew he did this, and if they did, why they asked me to watch the kids. I knew I was about 4 years older than James, and I was honestly confused about why he took it upon himself to get everyone doing whatever they were supposed to be doing. But what exactly they were supposed to be doing, I had no idea whatsoever. So I took the whole thing as a blessing in disguise.

"Rose, Hugo, get the snacks and bowls from the Junior Assistant."

"Albus, Lily, find that movie in the library."

"Teddy, uh, you can help me get the money and move the chairs into the fireplace."

"The fireplace?" I asked.

"To floo, of course. You didn't think we'd stay here for five hours, did you?"

"I guess not." The truth was, I didn't know what I thought. I knew that James and Albus were troublemakers, and that Hugo, Lily, and Rose always listened to whoever they were told to listen to. I also knew that they would find some way out of those rules, but I never expected it to be _this _extreme.

As I practically jogged to keep up with James's brisk pace to a closet that most likely held the chairs, I asked him, "Does the Junior Assistant know what we're doing?"

"Yeah, he's been covering for us since our parents started working here."

"Does he know we're breaking every rule they just gave us?"

"Actually, Teddy, that's a funny story. We're not breaking _any_ of the rules they just gave us. The fireplace is on the first floor, we're not in the fountain, we're not bothering Mr. Shacklebolt, and we'll be back here for noon."

"But you know they wouldn't approve."

"We've been doing this for _months_, Teddy, and no one knows yet. And they're not going to know, got it?"

"I wouldn't tell anyone. I'm just asking."

"Good."

We had finally reached the closet on the other end of the first floor, and James took out a key to open it.

Inside, there were stacks of folding chairs and shelves of bags of galleons, sickles, and knuts, labeled with "Emergency Money" and then stamped with names like "Weasley Children" or "Potter Children." James grabbed the one stamped "James Sirius Potter" and took three chairs in his arms, telling me to grab three also, that they were surprisingly light.

By the time we made it back to the main entrance, Rose and Hugo had armfuls of candy and muggle snacks piled sloppily into bowls, and Albus and Lily had found the movie and were fighting over whether or not it was the right one.

James gave Albus the bag of money and propped his chairs up against the wall next to him so he could walk over to the Junior Assistant, whose name, I learned, was Timothy. He told Timothy, who looked younger than Harry and Ron, that we would be back, and to call him on his cell phone at precisely 11:30 so that we would have enough time to get back and clean ourselves up for lunch with our parents.

I heard Timothy tell us to have fun and to be safe, that our parents would kill him if he knew what we were doing and one of us got hurt.

James helped me lift my chairs into the fireplace, and I did the same for him. Lily and Albus walked in, movie in tow, and Rose and Hugo stumbled in, attempting not to drop any candy on their way to…wherever we were going.

"James?" I asked.

"Hmm?"

"Where _are_ we going?"

"To a deserted apartment in downtown London. We found it one day while we were playing Quidditch and the snitch ran off. It's muggle, by the looks of it, but it's clean and has a…a DVD player and a cold box with food called a…a refreezerator."

"Cool."

"Yep."

James had dropped the floo powder and yelled, "24 West Avenue, Downtown London, Apartment 684453."

We stepped out of the apartment's tiny fireplace one by one, lugging our goodies with us. I helped James set up the six folding chairs, that turned out to be fold-out recliners, while Rose dumped the multiple candies into separate bowls and Hugo tried to assist Albus and Lily with the muggle DVD player.

Finally, they got the movie on. The recliners were so cushy that you could jump on them like a bed, like your parents always tell you not to at home. The movie had talking muggle animals that sang songs in high-pitched voices, and Lily and Hugo felt the need, as the youngest, to sing along.

There was so much candy you could have eaten yourself sick. I don't even know how we had enough room on the tiny table for it all. There were unwrapped chocolate frogs, more Bott's Every Flavor Beans than you could ever want, licorice wands, jelly slugs, fudge flies, peppermint toads, cockroach clusters, and a whole lot of this muggle food called popped corn. That was my favorite. It was salty and buttery, and light and puffy. James managed to find some that was covered in chocolate, some that was covered in caramel, and some that was covered in this orange powder that tasted like cheddar cheese.

When the movie was over, Lily opened a closet and handed each of us a pillow. She hit me with hers, and I hit her back. That's how it started, and it ended with us all collapsed in our chairs, feathers everywhere, even in our hair and stuck to our clothing, and six empty pillowcases lying on the ground.

Just then, something in James's pocket beeped. "Time to get going," he said.

So I helped him fold up the chairs again, which was easier said than done, mind you. And then we helped Rose repackage the candy and situate it back in the bowls to go home while Hugo, Lily, and Albus tried to get the muggle contraption to spit out the disc with the movie on it.

Once everything was back in place we grabbed a handful of floo powder from James's pocket (I have no idea why he keeps it in there; his mother must get very angry when she goes to wash his robes), and yelled, loud and clear, "Ministry of Magic, London."

We appeared in just enough time to set the chairs back in the closet with the emergency money (which we didn't need, thankfully), slide the movie back on the shelf, give the candy back to Timothy, and quickly clean each other of the remains of feathers, sugar, and butter.

We sat against the wall with Hugo's deck of cards playing Old Goblin when Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron came down to meet us for lunch.

"Hungry, guys?" asked Ron, "Because I'm starving."

We all shrugged, still stuffed from the candy. "A little."

"Let's go grab lunch. What do you say to something from the Leakey Cauldron?"

We shrugged again.

"Not too enthusiastic there, ay?"

No response.

"Come along now, once you get a whiff of that food, you know you'll all want something."

And once we got there, the smells _did_ make us hungry.

This was going to be an interesting week.


	26. Dolores Umbridge

_Word Count: 1,093_

_Letter: U_

_Character: Dolores Umbridge_

_Others I Considered: Ug the Unreliable_

_Why I Picked Dolores: No one knows much about Ug, and it wasn't enough to write a sufficient story._

_Summary: Dolores watches in the classrooms of Professor Snape, Professor Sprout, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick._

Dolores had made a schedule and put it in the teacher's lounge on the bulletin board. During first block, she'd observe Minerva. During third block, she'd observe Pomona. During fifth block, it was Filius's turn. Severus was to be observed during seventh block.

Dolores made her way to Minerva McGonagall's classroom long before she needed to. She began to question her about her background at the school.

"How long have you been teaching here?"

"This is my thirty-ninth year," replied the professor monotonously.

"Thinking about retirement yet?"

"No."

Dolores considered this for a moment.

"So you're head of Gryffindor house?"

"Yes."

"And what do you think of the children in your house?"

"They're a fine group of students."

"Mr. Potter is in your house, is he not?"

"Yes, he is."

"Any thoughts on him?"

"He is just as fine as all of the other students. He's a brave child, really a true Gryffindor."

Minerva's students started crowding in and taking their seats, and she brushed passed Dolores to get to the front of her classroom.

"Today, class, we'll be working on self-transfigurations again. I want you all to work on the small things, maybe clipping your fingernails or changing the color of your eyebrow, and once you have the hang of that, try something a little bigger, like changing the size of your hand," she paused here to transfigure her hand from its normal size, to twice that, then to half of its original size, and back, "or changing the color of your hair. I'll be walking around to answer your questions as usual."

At that, a light murmuring began as the students partnered up and transfigured themselves, looking in the small mirrors on their desks to see if they ended up doing what they wanted. Minerva walked around, making sure that nothing completely un-correctable was done.

"Minerva?"

"Yes?"

"Would you like to finish your questions for the observation?"

"No." And she walked over and took the seat next to her.

"I noticed that you are quite good at Transfiguration. Has that always been your strong subject?"

"Yes. I remember being a young witch here at Hogwarts and loving Transfiguration, trying new and advanced things in the dorms by myself."

"Why do you like it?"

"I'm not so sure. I think because you can make new things out of old things, make old things out of new things, or take something completely opposite and turn it into what you want."

"Any other words you'd like to add?"

"Dolores, I do not intend on retiring any time soon. Nor do I have anything against Mr. Potter and his friends."

"Then it seems we stand on two opposite sides."

And with that, Dolores walked out and left Minerva to finish teaching her class.

When third period rolled around, Dolores made her way to Pomona's greenhouse rather early. She started observing right away.

"You teach Herbology here?"

"Yes."

"And you're head of Hufflepuff house?"

"Yes."

"Anything against any of the students in your house?"

"No. They're all great and loyal students and I think they'll become great witches and wizards later in their lives."

"Why do you like Herbology?"

"I think anyone can do it, and I don't think it's the most dangerous thing to learn either."

Pomona's students took their seats just then, and the professor stepped around Dolores to get to her chalkboard. Tapping it with her wand, she said, "We'll be taking our tests today. Everyone, notes and wands away, quills out." She passed out the tests and told the students that they had the whole period.

"Let's go outside," said Dolores, and Pomona cast a watch charm, which would tell her if anyone was noisy or cheating, around her classroom.

"Do you have anything against-"

"Dolores, I think that Harry Potter and his friends- I think that all of my students are wonderful. It seems that you and I view things from two different perspectives in this situation and I hope that this is an observation on my teaching, not an observation on my political standpoints."

"Of course, of course. Well then, I believe if you could give me a copy of your test then I'll be on my way."

Pomona _accioed_ one and gave it to Dolores and they both went back to their rooms.

Twenty minutes before fifth period was to begin, Filius found himself being bombarded with questions from none other than Dolores Umbridge herself.

"You teach Charms?"

"Yes."

"And you're part-goblin?"

"Yes, and quite proud."

Dolores turned up her nose.

"What is your method of teaching?"

"I usually teach with rhymes, riddles, and catchy phrases to help the students remember more. I teach with hands on, allowing them to use the charms, after proper instruction, of course. I make sure they are saying the incantation correctly, then I teach them the wand movement, and then I let them try it."

"You seem quite organized."

"So I've been told."

"And you're head of Ravenclaw house?"

"Yes. It's a great house to be a part of. Such wise children."

"You also conduct the choir?"

"Yes. I have always had a love for music."

"Very well."

Dolores stayed the remainder of the class and found nothing unusual about Filius's teaching. She actually learned that she was doing something _wrong_, and that that was why her hovering charm never quite made it up the stairs. She left with the students, ignoring the professor when he said good-bye.

She waited until the middle of sixth block when she knocked on Severus's door in the dungeons.

"Enter."

"Hello."

"May I help you?"

"I am here to observe your class."

"Class has not begun."

She ignored his sadistic sarcasm and took a seat.

"Why potions?"

"It was the only vacant position."

"And you once applied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position?"

"Yes."

"And you did not succeed?"

"…Obviously."

His students took their seats.

"You'll be making the Drought of the Living Dead. Do _not_ drink it this time, Longbottom. The page number is on the board."

"So," started Dolores again, "You are also the head of Slytherin?"

"Yes."

"Anything you'd like to add?"

"No."

"Honestly?"

"Yes."

"You're on probation."

He raised his eyebrows. "For?"

"Being sarcastic with the Hogwarts High Inquisitor."

"You can't do that."

"Why not?"

"No one wants my position. No one else will teach the students potions."

"Then no one else will teach the students potions."

"As you wish."

And Snape walked into his office and send owls to all the other professors.

_This has to end. Now._

_ ~ S.S._


	27. Vincent Crabbe

Letter: V

**Character: Vincent Crabbe**

**Other Characters I Considered: Victoire Weasley, Viktor Krum, and Vernon Dersley**

**Why Vincent Got The Part: He's so **_**stupid**_**, and I was in the mood to write something funny. **

**Word Count: 181**

**Summary: Crabbe argues with Malfoy about why he has to turn into a girl so that Malfoy can fix the Vanishing Cabinet for the Dark Lord. (Sorry it's so short.)**

"NO! NO, DRACO- I CAN'T! THIS IS _STUPID!_"

"Shut it, Crabbe! You're attracting attention, not to mention that you're making a _bloody_ old fool of yourself, really. Just drink it."

"But _why?_"

"_Because_, Crabbe. Because I said so. Drink up now, c'mon."

"I'm not _that_ stupid, Draco, now tell me! Why do I have to turn into a _girl_?"

"Because I need you to guard this hallway for me. And every time someone comes near, I need you to make a loud noise, drop something even, to let me know that I can't come out."

"But why can't I stay a guy?"

"Crabbe, we went over this. If you're still you, people will get suspicious."

"But why _me_?"

"Not just you, Goyle too. I need you guys to do it, because you're my friends, right?"

"Well…"

"C'mon, Crabbe, drink up now."

Crabbe fidgeted for a little in Draco's grip, but finally gave up and let the Polyjuice flow down his throat. Draco let go of him to let him transform, and rounded on Goyle.

"Oh, no, Draco, not again. NOT AGAIN!"


	28. Winky

Letter: W

_Character: Winky_

_Why I Chose Winky: I got a lot of positive feedback from the chapter I did on Dobby, so I decided to find another house elf that I could do a funny chapter on to get more people reading._

_Other Characters I Considered: Weasley Family_

_Word Count: 449_

_Summary: Winky listens at the door as Dobby gets her a job with Professor Dumbledore._

"Winky waits here, and Dobby will go and get Winky a job with Professor Dumbledore."

I did as the elf with the bad grammar that attached himself to me said and waited in the corridors by the big wooden door that the elf was now jumping at, attempting to reach the doorknob.

A tall man with a long white beard and half-moon glasses opened the door for Dobby and welcomed him inside, not seeing me and therefore paying me no mind.

Not that I deserved any mind from anyone, as I was fired by my master and then he was…he was….w-w-was…k-k-k-kill-l-l-l-ed-d-d-d…

I reached for my canteen of Butterbeer that I always keep tied around my shoulders and took a long gulp. _It wouldn't hurt_, I thought, _to finish the rest now_. _I've got plenty more for later_. So I finished the canteen and tipsily plopped myself down in front of the door. Curiously, I pressed my ear against the thick wood and listened to Dobby's excited voice and the calm one of the old man, who, I presumed, was the legendary Professor Dumbledore.

"So, Dobby, how's life in the Hogwarts kitchen treating you?"

"Oh, marvelous, sir, Dobby loves it. Dobby gets to see Dobby's friends Harry Potter and the one with the bushy hair and the one with the fire on his head every day, sir. Dobby loves it, sir."

"Great, Dobby, great. So what I can I help you with today? A pay raise? A promotion, maybe?"

"Oh, no, sir, Dobby is completely happy with what Dobby has, sir. Dobby wants Dobby's friend, Winky, to have a job though, sir. Winky is very sad, very, _very_ sad indeed, sir. Winky drinks a lot, sir, and Winky needs help, sir, but Winky also needs a job, sir. Can Professor Dumbledore help Dobby get Dobby's friend a job, sir? Because Dobby's friend is really in need of a job, sir. Really, _really_-"

"Of course, Dobby. Where would you like Winky to work?"

"Dobby doesn't know, sir, Dobby just wants Winky to work wherever Professor Dumbledore can get Winky to work, sir. Wherever Professor Dumbledore can, sir."

"How about I put Winky in the kitchens with you, Dobby? That way you can keep an eye on her drinking and make sure she has a friend."

"Oh, yes, sir, that would be wonderful, sir."

"And how about payment, Dobby. Same as yours, I presume?"

"Oh, no, sir, Winky does not want payment, sir."

"Okay, Dobby. How about you get back to work?"

"Okay, sir."

There was the sound of two sets of footsteps walking over to the door, then it opened and Dobby walked out.

"Winky, Winky! Dobby got you a job!"


	29. Xenophilius Lovegood

Word Count: 1,064

Letter: X

Character: Xenophilius Lovegood

Summary: A young Xeno finds out about the Deathly Hallows for the first time, after receiving his trademark necklace that helps other seekers recognize him.

A/N: First off, please note that the story of the Deathly Hallows was taken directly out of my copy of _The Tales of Beetle the Bard_ by JK Rowling. Secondly, please don't forget to visit my profile and vote in the pole!

"I brought you something, Xeno."

My grandfather handed me a small black box. I opened it to find a necklace. The chain was made of old, softened black leather and the charm was rusty silver. I picked it up in my fingers, letting my thumb trace over the triangle with its intricate carvings, moving it on to the circle that just grazed each side of the triangle surrounding it, and finally running it up and down the straight line that was enclosed by the circle.

"Wow. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Xeno."

"What does it mean?"

"This charm here?"

"Yes."

"It stands for the three Deathly Hallows."

"What are they?"

My grandfather removed his glasses and placed them on the stone table in front of the overstuffed couch on which we were sitting.

"That, my dear boy, involves a story. A story so familiar to me that I could recite it if I was in a coma."

I smiled at him, letting the corners of my mouth and the sparkle of curiosity in my eyes gesture at him to continue.

"There were once three brothers who were traveling a lonely, winding road at twilight. In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across. However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure.

"And Death spoke to them. He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic, and said that each had earned a prize for having been cleaver enough to evade him.

"So the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful that any in existence: a wand that must always win duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death! So Death crossed to an elder tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother.

"Then the second brother, who was an arrogant man, decided that he wanted to humiliate Death still further, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead.

"And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest of the brothers, and he did not trust Death. So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from place to place without being followed by Death. And Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility.

"Then Death stood aside and allowed the three brothers to continue on their way, and they did so, talking with wonder of the adventure they had had, and admiring Death's gifts.

"In due course the brothers separated, each for his own destination.

"_The first brother traveled on for a week or more, and reaching a distant village, sought out a fellow wizard with whom he had a quarrel. Naturally, with the Elder Wand as his weapon, he could not fail to win the duel that followed. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the oldest brother proceeded to an inn, where he boasted loudly of the wand he had snatched from Death himself, and how it made him invincible._

"_That very night, another wizard crept upon the oldest brother as he lay, wine-sodden, upon his bed. The thief took the wand and, for good measure, slit the oldest brother's throat._

"_And so Death took the first brother for his own._

"_Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. Here he took out the stone that had the power to recall the dead, and turned it thrice in his hand. To his amazement and delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him._

"_Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, killed himself so as truly to join her._

"_And so Death took the second brother for his own._

"_But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him. It was only when he had attained great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life."_

I considered all of this for a moment, taking it in.

"What do you think?"

"Do all of these, these _hallows_," I started, trying out the word, "exist?"

"Ah, son, that's a personal belief. _I_ think so," he paused, and looked at my grandmother, "but Grandma does not."

"I…I think I do."

"I thought you would, Xeno, and that's why I brought you the necklace."

That snapped me back to my previous question. "What _does_ the charm mean?"

"The triangle? It stands for the Cloak of Invisibility. And the circle stands for the stone that can revive the dead. The line, it stands for-"

"The Elder Wand," I finished.

"Yes, the Elder Wand. And those of us who wear these, for all to see," he paused and fidgeted with his own charm, a smaller, golden version, that he wore in plain sight on his charm bracelet with a picture of me, a picture of Grandma, and a figurine of his frog, "believe."

"Believe that they exist?"

"Yes, and we also believe that he who combines all three of these magical objects will have defeated Death himself."

"Oh."

"Do you believe?"

"I believe," I said, and I meant it.

He fastened the necklace around my neck. I felt the cold charm rest against my skin, and I brought my hand up to touch it, repeating my words. "I believe."


	30. Y Medley

A/N: Because there is no one wizard that is popular enough to write about for "Y," I chose a few, and am putting a paragraph or two for each in this one chapter. Enjoy!

Yardley Platt

_Summary: Platt tries to think of an excuse to why he killed so many goblins in his trial._

The thrill. The intensity. The adrenaline rush. Those were the only reasons I could think of, but, of course, I couldn't admit that. They'd lock me up in Azkaban for sure.

"Because goblins are terrible creatures. Every time one came near me, it attempted to rob me, or to harm me in some way."

Of course, they didn't believe it. How stupid do you think I am? But if I didn't answer, my time would have been worse. If I tried to make an excuse, they'd at least dock a few months off my time, maybe jump it from six months to four or five. And as I continued my trial, that's all I kept chanting to myself to keep my brain working.

Yoshihiro Suzuki

_Summary: Suzuki gets ready to play his position as Chaser on Japan's Quidditch team._

As I mounted my broom and got ready to play, I let the rush of the crowd's cheers fill me up, seep in through my ears and escape out to my head, fill my entire body and drown out the sound of my heart pumping. I let it fill me enough so I start to tremble, and release it out in one big breathe, forcing any nerves out with it. So as they let the balls out, I climb high into the sky, and I'm ready.

Yaxley Family

_Summary: The Yaxley Family finds out their distant relatives, the Weasley Family, are blood traitors and burns them off of the family tapestry._

"WHAT?"

"You heard me correctly, dear."

"Very well. Fetch me my wand."

Moments later, he returned with a wand.

"_Incendio!_"

Everyone watched as the large patch on the family tapestry burned through, leaving just a hole where the green paint seeped through the blackened edges where their distant cousins, aunts, and uncles used to be.

"Good-bye, Cousin Arthur," Mrs. Yaxley said in a singsong voice.


	31. Blaise Zabini

_**Word Count: 624**_

_**Letter: Z**_

_**Character: Blaise Zabini**_

Summary: None of the professors are anywhere to be found, and the most common thing happens at dinner in the Great Hall- a food fight! However, this ordinary event results in some things that would never have happened before…

"FOOD FIGHT!" I yelled across the room, whipping my mashed potatoes at Pansy. Man, I'd always wanted to do that.

Before I knew it, everyone was into it. Luna was tossing green beans at Ernie; Ron was taking whatever food he _hadn't_ eaten and lobbing it at whoever was stupid enough to stand in his line of fire; even Longbottom was taking ladlefuls of soup and aiming them at random targets, ranging from Cho Chang to Crabbe and Goyle.

Even the house elves were helping us, supplying each table with more food as soon as ammunition got low. We were _so_ lucky that none of the teachers were around at the moment, because as soon as they got back, we would all be serving months' worth of detention.

I watched as none other than Hermione Granger slapped Draco Malfoy in the face with a drumstick. How could he tell? She was giggling like mad from across the room.

He smirked and joined the party, which, until now, he had no intentions of doing. He picked up the half a steak that was left on his plate and hurled it across the room.

Apparently, he had absolutely no skill in any other sport than Quidditch, because it missed her by about three feet and hit a Ravenclaw third-year instead.

"Missed me, missed me! Now you've got to kiss me!"

Little did she know that her taunt would be taken seriously, and Draco sprinted across the room to do just that.

Little did the rest of us know that they _had_ actually been going out, secretly, for the past three months, as we all found out later that evening.

But none of us were all that concerned about that now, when there was a food fight going on.

I took fire on the cute redheaded Weasley, Ginny. I pitched my chocolate-chip cookie at her with just enough force that I knew it would hit her, but it wouldn't hurt.

She glared at me with a raised eyebrow, and I was paying attention to her face when I saw her lift her arm and fling a handful of onion rings back at me. I was too shocked to do anything but stand there and take the hit.

Meanwhile, Potter was flipping silverware to Fred and George, who were catching them and launching them backwards toward the Slytherins with contraptions they had built from parsley, napkins, and straws.

By this time Hermione and Draco had returned to their tables and were playfully chucking food at each other.

No one noticed that the professors had appeared until they started attacking us themselves. But they weren't assaulting us with food- no, they were hitting us with potions, plants, transfigured water balloons, balls of paper, and harmless hexes.

Finally we stopped throwing food at each other and worked together to take them down. The Slytherins chucked French fries and lamp chops at Professor McGonagall. Gryffindor students shot at Professor Snape with ice cream, spaghetti, salad dressing- well, basically anything they could get their hands on. Professor Sprout was being beaten with fruit and lasagna by Ravenclaws, while the Hufflepuffs were having a ball taking down Professor Flitwick with cornbread and iced tea- with _lots_ of lemon, which they knew he was allergic to. The house elves were working overtime struggling to make sure that the tables were stocked with plenty of things to fire with.

Finally the chaos concluded when Professor Dumbledore waved his wand and cleaned up all the mess, gesturing for everyone to return to their seats.

Oddly enough, no one disciplined us. They let us have our fun, cleaned it up themselves, and finished the abnormal evening with an, "Enjoy your meal" from Dumbledore.

Enjoy it we did.


End file.
